Amazing Stories v02n05 1927 08 017

AMAZING STORIES

Are You Caught Behind the

Bars of a "Small-Time" Job?

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rf»A<ytilW ELECTRICAL |

V* %3 1 W 1!# SCHOOL

H. C. LEWIS, Pres., Dept. C7- '03 1300-10 W. Harrison St., Chicago, 111.

COYNE ELECTRICAL SCHOOL

1 !. C. Ir.wi., Pres.. Dept. C7-02

-10 W. Harrison St., Chicago, Ul.
Dear Mr. Lewis:

I want the facta, ao without obligation, send i
trated catalog end details of your K. R. fare.

Nam, ,

Contents for August

The War o£ the Worlds

By H. G. Wells. 422

The Tissue-Culture King

By Julian Huxley 451

The Retreat to Mars

By Cecil B. White _ 460

Electro-Episoded in A.D. 2025

By E. D. Skinner. 469

The Ultra-Elixir of Youth

By J. Hyatt Ferrill 476

The Chemical Magnet

By Victor Thaddeus r ...-.-..- - 486

Hicks' Inventions With a Kick

Hicks' Automatic Apartment

By Henry Hugh Simmons 493

The Shadow on the Spark

By Edward S. Sears - 498

Our Cover

this month depicts a scene in "The War of the Worlds." by
M. CI, W.-ll*. ui "bioi iIil- tiiiL,: M::::i:m- — highly dcvylu|j'.'d

Huxley. Copyright

In Our Next Issue:

THE RADIO GHOST, by Otis Adelbert Kline.
You can not fail to remember "The Malignant
Entity," by this well-known author. Here he has
outdone himself in an original story, never pub-
lished before, which shows you all of the wonders
of radio when used for malignant purposes; a
story so thrilling and yet so pregnant with pos-
sibilities, that yon shudder to think that the same
instrumentalities which we actually have today
might be put to use by some one with a criminal
mentality.

THE WINGED DOOM, by Kenneth Gilbert.
Now that aviation has come to the fore again,
through the exploits of our American flyers,
"The Winged Doom," gives you a peep into the
future, and you see what may happen when a
powerful nation is about to invade this country.
Here we have aviation to the nth degree, and yet,
as you read on, you will become convinced of the
j.iu^.-ibniiii'i contained in the story.
THE STONE CAT—" by Miles J. Ereuer, M.D.
". . . but his (Lot's) wife looked back from
behind him, and she became a pillar of salt." Thus
reads the Bible (Genesis six:26). In reading this
story by the author of "The Man with the Strange
Head," you will instinctively think of petrified
forests and prehistoric animals, many of which
can be found in our national museums. We simply
mention this to show that the idea of petrifying
human beings is, after all, not so-far-fetched.
THE WAR OF THE WORLDS, by H. G.
Wells. In the second installment we find the
Martians in possession of the earth. By means
of their superior intelligence and [heir death-
dealing war implements, they have thoroughlv
subjugated everybody. The author describes
graphically what might happen on earth should
any nation be able to acquire such power. You
will read with intense interest the concluding part
J of this great scientifiction story.

o srraseitiEE ron "amazing s'

Tal Advertising Dept..

Avenue, New Yorlc City.

418

AMAZING STORIES

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"Why Hasn't Someone Thought of That

Before—?"

THUS asks a reader who has just made the acquaintance of
Modern Story Magazine, the new magazine devoted exclu-
sively to modern youth. "A magazine that actually is 'of, by
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seems to me that there is a great need, a crying demand, for just
such a magazine."*

T EST is be thought that only the fair sex has taken to the idea
behind Modern Story, we hasten to quote from a chap in
Chicago: "It indeed was a fortunate circumstance which led me
to the newsstand where I got my first copy of Modern Story Maga-
zine. I had started out looking for a copy of another magazine
when I chanced to see yours on the counter. Attracted by the
title and the elegant style of the cover, I picked up a copy, opened
it and saw that I had found the ore thing I long had desired to
see: a magazine devoted entirely to the interests of modern youth."*

Y^/"HAT is it about this new magazine that has so captured the
imagination of modern youth? It must be fresh and differ-
ent; it must offer them something that no other publication does.
Nothing else will explain the enthusiasm aroused by its appear-
ance, and its steadily mounting circulation.

pERHAPS you, too, have been looking for just such a maga-
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of the present moment, stories that plumb the manifold phases of
modern life and love, you are certain to like Modern Story Maga-
zine. It's a quarter a copy at all newsstands. Get yours today!

Get- Acquainted Offer

If you arc one of thosf who prefer to receive your maga-
zine direct at \mtr home, we will <iW/v tend toii the ne.rl
FIVE issues at the Special Price of $1." Fill out the coupon
below, and scud it with bill, cheek or money order to Modern
Story Magazine, 423 West SSt/i Street, New York City.

Street

City Slat*.

MODERN STORY
MAGAZINE

423 West 55 th Street
New York City

* The original letters from which the* exrractl are quoted, as
well as scores of other letters from readers, may be seen at our
offices by any interested persons.

VOLUME

AUGUST, 1927
No. 5

THE

MAGAZINE
OF

SCIENTIFICTION

HUGO GERNSBACK, Editor WILBUR C. WHITEHEAD, Literary Editor

DR. T. O'CONOR SLOANE, Ph.D. ; Associate Editor C. A. BRANDT, Literary Editor

Editorial and General Offices: 230 Fifth Avenue, New York, N. Y.

Extravagant Fiction Today ------- Cold Fact Tomorrow

A DIFFERENT STORY

By HUGO GERNSBACK

much \

lOW that Amazing Stories has put the
1 first year safely behind it, it is safe to
I say that the magazine has definitely "ar-
rived." Much work, however, is still
eft to be done. I wish to say here how
we all appreciate the continued support of our
readers and their enthusiasm in supporting the mag-
azine month after month.

While the experimental period is over, and the ma-
gazine is on a fair road to success, much ground has
yet to be covered. For one thing, the magazine is
not yet on a paying basis, notwithstanding the fact
that 150,000 copies are printed monthly. The ex-
pense of publishing and distributing the magazine
and placing it on some 30,000 newsstands through-
out the country is enormous. On the other hand, it
takes several years to establish a magazine with the
advertisers, and while Amazing Stories now en-
joys the confidence of a few advertisers, much re-
mains to be done. Not until the magazine has some
twenty or thirty pages of advertising will it he pos-
sible to realize a profit on the publication.

I believe you will appreciate a frank talk of this
kind, for the simple reason that after all it is really
your magazine, and is published at the present time
more for your benefit than for the benefit of the

] mlil is hers. It is with this thought in mind that 1
feel I am not expecting too much when I ask that
you sign the blank below, giving us the names and
addresses of as many of your friends as you think
might be interested in Amazing Stories.

Only by having additional readers can the maga-
zine hope to be put on a profitable basis. When we
print 150,000 magazines, that does not mean that
150,000 are sold. The publishers put out their ma-
gazines on the newsstands, and only those that are
sold are paid for. Those that are not sold are re-
turned for credit. It is my idea, then, to send these
returned copies to your friends so that those who
have never seen the magazine may become acquaint-
ed with it and become steady readers. We believe
this is a small favor to ask, and of course, we would
like to have only the names of such of your friends
as have never seen the magazine before, and who,
you think, might be interested in Amazing Stories.

After all, we are doing pioneer work with an en-
tirely new and different kind of magazine, and must,
therefore, have whatever assistance you can give us
by sending us good prospects and then let the mag-
azine succeed on its own merits. If you do not wish
to mutilate the magazine, just copy the blank and
send it to us properly filled in. A copy of the maga-
zine wtl! then he sent free, to your friends.

nam:

ADDRESS
CITY «nd STATE

Please send copies of Amazing Stories to :
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ADDRESS
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Glthn Lmc.&&<L name R\f.to. 0 .n.&..Wxl.xnxr.kk

ADDRESS ADDRESS ■

CITY and STATE JlUrQr.XtfMlij.YlJl.LS CITY md STATE . ft. U K

name TTJr.s, KA./pJv.KeA.n£* name

ADDRESS , , ADDRESS

CITY and STATE CITY and STATE

Submitted by. G./*.t Jf. fk r.tc.t. . . .

uf..i&.£&ju±..Gi>M«:.

lffr. Hugo Gemsback speaks every Monday at 9 P. M. from WRNY on various scientific and radio subjects.

Ml

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS

423

CHAPTER I

The Eve of the War

JflO one would have believed, in the last
years of the nineteenth century, that
human affairs were being watched
keeniy and closely by intelligences
greater than man's and yet as mortal
as his own; that as men busied themselves about
their affairs they were scrutinized and studied,
perhaps almost as narrowly as a man with a micro-
scope might scrutinize the transient creatures that
swarm and multiply in a drop of water. With infi-
nite complacency men went to and fro over this
globe about their little affairs, serene in their assur-
ance of their empire over matter. It is possible
that the infusoria under the microscope do the same.
No one gave a thought to the older worlds of space
as sources of human danger, or thought of them
only to dismiss the idea of life upon them as im-
possible or improbable. It is curious to recall some
of the mental habits of those departed days. At
most, terrestrial men fancied there might be other
men upon Mars, perhaps inferior to themselves and
ready to welcome a mis- .

sionary enterprise. Yet,

across the gulf of space,
minds that are to our
minds as ours are to those
of the beasts that perish,
intellects vast and cool
and unsympathetic, re-
garded this earth with
envious eyes, and slowly
and surely drew their
plans against us. And
early in the twentieth
century came the great
disillusionment.

The planet Mars, I
scarcely need remind the
reader, revolves about the
sun at a mean distance of
140,000,000 miles, and the
light and heat it receives
from the sun is less than
half of that received by
this world. It must be,
if the nebular hypothesis

has any truth, older fhan

our world, and long before

this earth ceased to be molten, life upon its surface
must have begun its course. The fact that it is
scarcely one-seventh of the volume of the earth must
have accelerated its cooling to the temperature at
which life could begin. It has air and water, and all
that is necessary for the support of animated exist-
ence.

Yet so vain is man, and so blinded by his vanity,
that no writer, up to the very end of the nineteenth
century, expressed any idea that intelligent life
might haw developed there far beyond its earthly
level, or indeed at all. Nor was It generally under-
stood that since Mars is older than our earth, with
scarcely a quarter of the superficial area, and re-

moter from the sun. it necessarily follows that it is
not only more distant from life's beginning but
nearer its end.

The secular cooling that must some day overtake
our planet has already gone far indeed with our
neighbor. Its physical condition is still largely a
mystery, but we know now that even in its equa-
torial region the midday temperature barely ap-
proaches that of our coldest winter. Its air is much
more attenuated than ours, its oceans have shrunk
until they cover but a third of its surface, and as its
slow seasons change huge snowcaps gather and melt
about either pole, and periodically inundate its tem-
perate zones. That last stage of exhaustion, which
to us is still incredibly remote, has become a pres-
ent-day problem for the inhabitants of Mars. The
immediate pressure of necessity has brightened
their intellects, enlarged their powers, and hardened
their hearts. And looking across space, with instru-
ments and intelligences such as we have scarcely
dreamt of, they see, at its nearest distance, only
35,000.000 of miles sunward of them, a morning
star of hope, our own warmer planet green with
vegetation and gray with water, with a cloudy at-
mosphere eloquent of fertility, with glimpses
through its drifting cloud-wisps of broad stretches
of populous country and

OF all the stories thai H. G. Wtttl wrote. Perhaps
none has become so justly famous as "The War of
the Worlds." In this classic, one of the first great Mar-
tian stories, the Martians make war upon our world with
far-reaching consequences. In it, Wells makes the point
that the actual Martian does not remotely resemble a hu-
man being. This is excellent science, because after all
there is hardly a chance in a million that in the evolution
of Mars their intelligent beings should even suggest the
human race. Evolutionists today agree that the human
race, in being endowed with its intelligence, was, after
all, only a biological accident. There is no reason why
insects or some other species could not just as well be
the rulers of some planet.

Wells has often been condemned because of his pic-
tured ruthlessness of Martians, but, after all. why should
they not be ruthless? Are we not ourselves as ruthless
when we dissect insects and low animals for our scien-
tific investigations? If there were a superior intelligence,
to which, by comparison, ours was as inferior as that of
a chicken compared to a man's, there would be no good
reason why it should not be ruthless if it wanted to con-
quer the planet for its own designs. We humans our-
selves would not hesitate to do the same thing if we sent
an expedition, let us say, to the moon, if we found what
we considered a low species there.

In any event, the "War of the Worlds" is a tremendous

document that a

"row navy-crowded
seas.

And we men, the crea-
tures who inhabit this
earth, must be to them at
least as alien and lowly
as are the monkeys and
lemurs to us. The intel-
lectual side of man al-
ready admits that life is
an incessant struggle for
existence, and it would
seem that this too is the
belief of the minds upon
Mars. Their world is far
gone in its cooling, and
this world is still crowded
with life, but crowded
only with what they re-
gard as inferior animals.
To carry warfare sun-
ward is indeed their only
escape from the destruc-
tion that generation after
■ ■ — generation creeps upon

them.

And before we judge of them too harshly, we
must remember what ruthless and utter destruction
our own species has wrought, not only upon animals,
such as the vanished bison and the dodo, but upon
its own inferior races. The Tasmanians, in spite
of their human likeness, were entirely swept out of
existence in a war of extermination waged by Euro-
pean immigrants, in the space of fifty years. Are
we such apostles of mercy as to complain if the
Martians warred in the same spirit?

The Martians seem to have calculated their de-
scent With amazing subtlety — their mathematical
learning is evidently far in excess of ours— and to
have carried out their preparations with a well-

rlassic for centuries to c

424

AMAZING STORIES

nigh perfect unanimity. Had our instruments per-
mitted it, we might have seen the gathering trouble
far back in the nineteenth century. Men like Schia-
parelli watched the red planet— it is odd, by-the-hy,
that for countless centuries Mars has been the star
of war — but failed to interpret the fluctuating ap-
pearances of the markings they mapped so well.
All that time the Martians must have been getting
ready.

•pvURING the opposition of 1894, a great light
J—/ was seen on the illuminated part of the disc,
first at the Lick Observatory, then by Perrotin of
Nice, and then by other observers. English readers
heard of it first in the issue of Nature dated August
2, I am inclined to think that the appearance may
have been the casting of the huge gun, the vast pit
sunk into their planet, from which their shots were
fired at us. Peculiar markings, as yet unexplained,
were seen near the site of that outbreak during the
next two oppositions.

The storm hurst upon U3 six years ago now. As
Mars approached opposition, Lavelle of Java set the
wires of the astronomical exchange palpitating with
the amazing intelligence of a huge outbreak of in-
candescent gas upon the planet. It had occurred
towards midnight of the 12th, and the spectroscope,
to which he had at once resorted, indicated a mass
of flaming gas, chiefly hydrogen, moving with an
enormous velocity towards this earth. This jet of
fire had become invisible about a quarter past
twelve. He compared it to a colossal puff of flame,
suddenly and violently squirted out of the planet,
"as flaming gas rushes out of a gun."

A singularly appropriate phrase it proved. Yet
the next day there was nothing of this in the papers,
except a little note in the Daily Telegraph, and the
world went in ignorance of one of the gravest dan-
gers that ever threatened the human race. I might
not have heard of the eruption at all had T not met
Ogilvy, the well-known astronomer, at Ottershaw.
He was immensely excited at the news, and in the
excess of his feelings invited me up to take a turn
with him that night in a scrutiny of the red planet.

In spite of all that has happened since, I still re-
member that vigil very distinctly: the black and
silent observatory, the shadowed lantern throwing
a feeble glow upon the floor in the corner, the steady
ticking of the clockwork of the telescope, the little
slit in the roof— an oblong profundity with the star
dust streaked across it. Ogilvy moved about, in-
visible but audible. Looking through the telescope,
one saw a circle of deep blue, and the little round
planet swimming in the field. It seemed such a little
thing, so bright and small and still, faintly marked
with transverse stripes, and slightly flattened from
the perfect round. But so little it was, so silvery
warm, a pin's head of light ! It was as if it quivered
a little, but really this was the telescope vibrating
with the activity of the clockwork that kept the
planet in view.

As 1 watched, the little star seemed to grow
larger and smaller, and to advance and recede, but
it was simply because my eye was tired. Forty mil-
lions of miles it was from us — more than 40,000,-
000 miles of void. Few people '•ealize the immensity

of vacancy in which the dust of the material uni-
verse swims.

Near it in the field, I remember, were three little
points of light, three telescopic stars infinitely re-
mote, and all around it was the unfathomable dark-
ness of empty space. You know how that blackness
looks on a frosty starlight night. In a telescope
it seems far profounder. And invisible to me, be-
cause it was so remote and small, flying swiftly and
steadily towards me across that incredible distance,
drawing 1 nearer every minute by so many thousands
of miles, came the Thing they were sending ua, the
Thing that was to bring so much struggle and
calamity and death to the earth. I never dreamt of
it then as I watched; no one on earth dreamt of
that unerring missile.

That night, too, there was another jetting out of
gas from the distant planet. I saw it. A reddish
flash at the edge, the slightest projection of the out-
line, just as the chronometer struck midnight, and
at that I told Ogilvy, and he took my place. The
night was warm and I was thirsty, and T went,
stretching my legs clumsily, and feeling my way in
the darkness, to the little table where the siphon
stood, while Ogilvy exclaimed at the streamer of
gas that came out towards us.

That night another invisible missile started on its
way to the earth from Mars, just a second or so
under twenty-four hours after the first one. I re_-
member how I sat on the table there in the black-
ness, with patches of green and crimson swimming
before my eyes. I wished I had a light to smoke by,
little suspecting the meaning of the minute gleam
I had seen, and all that it would presently bring me.
Ogilvy watched till one, and then gave it up, and
we lit the lantern and walked over to his house.
Down below in the darkness were Ottershaw and
Chertsey, and all their hundreds of people, sleeping
in peace.

He was full of speculation that night about the
condition of Mars, and scoffed at the vulgar idea of
its having inhabitants who were signalling us. His
idea was that meteorites might be falling in a heavy
shower upon the planet, or that a huge volcanic ex-
plosion was in progress. He pointed out to me how
unlikely it was that organic evolution had taken
the same direction in the two adjacent planets.

"The chances against anything man-like on Mars
are a million to one,'' he said.

Hundreds of observers saw the flame that night
and the night after, about midnight, and again the
night after, and so for ten nights, a flame each
night. Why the shots ceased after the tenth no one
on earth has attempted to explain. It may be the
gases of the firing caused the Martians inconven-
ience. Dense clouds of smoke or dust, visible
through a powerful telescope on earth as little gray,
fluctuating patches, spread through the clearness
of the planet's atmosphere, and obscured its more
, familiar features.

Even the daily papers woke up to the disturb-
ances at last, and popular notes appeared here, there
and everywhere concerning the volcanoes upon Mars.
The serio-comic periodical Punch, I remember, made
a happy use of it in the political cartoon. And, all
unsuspected, those missiles the Martians had fired
at us drew earthward, rushing now at a pace of

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS

425

many miles a second through the empty gulf of
space, hour by hour anil day by day, nearer and
nearer. It seems to me now almost incredibly won-
derful that, with that swift fate hanging over ua,
men could go about their petty concerns as they
did. I remember how jubilant Markham was at
swufing a new photograph of the planet for the
illustrated paper he edited in those days. People
in these latter times scarcely realize the abundance
and enterprise of our nineteenth-century papers.
For my own part, I was much occupied in learning
to ride the bicycle, and busy upon a series of papers
discussing the.probable developments of moral ideas
as civilization progressed.

One night (the first missile then could scarcely
have been 10,000,000 miles away) I went for a walk
with my wife. It was starlight, and I explained
the Signs of the Zodiac to her, and pointed out
Mars, a bright dot of light creeping zenithward,
towards which so many telescopes were pointed. It
was a warm night. Coming home, a party of excur-
sionists from Chertsey or Isleworth passed us sing-
ing and playing music. There were lights in the
upper windows of the houses as the people went to
bed. From the railway station in the distance came
the sound of shunting trains, ringing and rumbling
softened almost into melody by the distance. My
wife pointed out to me the brightness of the red,
green and yellow signal lights, hanging in a frame
work against the sky. It seemed so safe and tran-
quil.

CHAPTER II
The Falling Star

THEN came the night of the first falling star.
It was seen early in the morning rushing over
Winchester eastward, a line of flame, high in
the atmosphere. Hundreds must have seen it, and
taken it for an ordinary falling star. Albin de-
scribed it as leaving a greenish streak behind it
that glowed for some seconds. Denning, our great-
est authority on meteorites, stated that the height
of its first appearance was about ninety or one hun-
dred miles. It seemed to him that it fell to earth
about one hundred miles east of him.

I was at home at that hour and writing in my
study, and although my French windows face to-
wards Ottershaw and the blind was up (for I loved
in those days to look up at the night sky) , I saw
nothing of it. Yet this strangest of all things that
ever>came to earth from outer space must have fallen
while T was sitting there, visible to me had I only
looked up as it passed. Some of those who saw its
flight say it travelled with a hissing sound. I my-
self heard nothing of that. Many people in Berk-
shire. Surrey, and Middlesex must have seen the
fall of it, and. at most, have thought that another
meteorite had descended. No one seems to have
troubled to look for the fallen mass that night.

But very early in the morning poor Ogilvy, who
had seen the shooting star, and who was persuaded
that a meteorite lay somewhere on the common be-
tween Horsell, Ottershaw and Woking, rose early
with the idea of finding it. Find it he did, soon
after dawn, and not far from the sand-pits. An
enormous hole had been made by the impact of the
projectile, and the sand and gravel had been flung

violently in every direction over the heath and
heather, forming heaps visible a mile and a half
away. The heather was on fire eastward, and a thin
blue smoke rose against the dawn.

The Thing itself lay almost entirely buried in
sand, amidst the scattered splinters of a fir-tree it
had shivered to fragments in its descent. The un-
covered part had the appearance of a huge cylinder,
caked over, and its outline softened by a thick, scaly
dun-colored incrustation. It had a diameter of about
thirty yards. He approached the mass, surprised at
the size and more so at the shape, since most mete-
orites are rounded more or less completely. It was,
however, still so hot from its flight through the air
as to forbid his near approach. A stirring noise
within its cylinder he ascribed to the unequal cool-
ing of its surface; for at that time it had not oc-
curred to him that it might be hollow.

He remained standing at the edge of the pit that
the thing had made for itself, staring at its strange
appearance, astonished chiefly at its unusual shape
and color, and dimly perceiving even then some evi-
dences of design in its arrival. The early morning
was wonderfully still, and the sun, just clearing the
pine-trees towards Weybridge, was already warm.
He did not remember hearing any birds that morn-
ing, there was certainly no breeze stirring, and the
only sounds were the faint movements from within
the cindery cylinder. He was all alone on the com-
mon.

Then suddenly he noticed with a start that some
of the gray clinker, the ashy incrustation that cov-
ered the meteorite, was falling off the circular edge
of the end. It was dropping off in flakes and rain-
ing down upon the sand. A large piece suddenly
came off and fell with a sharp noise that brought
his heart into his mouth.

For a minute he scarcely realized what thi3
meant, and, although the heat was excessive, he
clambered down into the pit close to the bulk to
see the thing more clearly. He fancied even then
that the cooling of the body might account for this,
but what disturbed that idea was the fact that the
ash was falling only from the end of the cylinder.

And then he perceived that, very slowly, the cir-
cular top of the cylinder was rotating on its body.
It was such a gradual movement that be discovered
it only through noticing that a black mark that had
been near him five minutes ago was now at the other
side of the circumference. Even then he scarcely
understood what this indicated, until he heard a
muffled grating sound and saw the black mark jerk
forward an inch or so. Then the thing came upon
him in a flash. The cylinder was artificial— hollow
— with an end that screwed out ! Something within
the cylinder was unscrewing the top!

"Good heavens!" said Ogilvy. "There's a man in
it — men in it! Half roasted to death! Trying to
escape!"

At once, with a quick mental leap, he linked the
thing with a flash upon Mars.

THE thought of the confined creature was so
dreadful to him that he forgot the heat, and
went forward to the cylinder to help turn. But
luckily the dull radiation arrested him before he
could burn his hands on the still glowing metal.

426

AMAZING STORIES

At that he stood irresolute for a moment, then
turned, scrambled out of the pit, and set off running
wildly into Woking. The time then must have been
somewhere about six o'clock. He met a waggoner
and tried to make him understand, but the tale he
told, and his appearance, were so wild — his hat had
fallen off in the pit— that the man simply drove on.
He was equally unsuccessful with the potman who
was just unlocking the doors of the public-house by
Horsell Bridge. The fellow thought he was a luna-
tic at large, and made an unsuccessful attempt to
shut him into the tap-room. That sobered him a
little, and when he saw Henderson, the London
journalist, in his garden, he called over the palings
and made himself understood.

"Henderson," he called, "you saw that shooting
star last night?"

"Well?" said Henderson.

"It's out on Horshell Common now."

"Good Lord!" said Henderson. "Fallen mete-
orite ! That's good."

"But it's something more than a meteorite. It's
a cylinder— an artificial cylinder, man! And there's
something inside."

Henderson stood up with his spade in his hand.

"What's that?" he said. He is deaf in one ear.

Ogilvy told him all that he had seen. Henderson
was a minute or so taking it in. Then he dropped
his spade, snatched at hi3 jacket, and came out into
the road. The two men hurried back at once to the
common, and found the cylinder stili lying in the
same position. But now the sounds inside had
ceased, and a thin circle of bright metal 3howed
between the top and the body of the cylinder. Air
was either entering or escaping at the rim with a
thin, sizzling sound.

They listened, rapped on the scale with a stick,
and, meeting with no response, they both concluded
the man or men inside must be insensible or dead.

Of course the two were quite unable to do any-
thing. They shouted consolation and promises, and
went off back to the town again to get help. One
can imagine them, covered with sand, excited and
disordered, running up the little street in the bright
sunlight, just as the shop folks were taking down
their shutters and people were opening their bed-
room windows. Henderson went into the railway
station at once, in order to telegraph the news to
London. The newspaper articles had prepared
men's minds for the reception of the idea.

By eight o'clock a number of boys and unem-
ployed men had already started for the common to
seethe "dead men from Mars." That was the form
the story took. I heard of it first from my news-
paper boy, about a quarter to nine, when I went out
to get my Daily Chrmritie. I was naturally startled,
and lost no time in going out and across the Otter-
shaw bridge to the sand-pits.

CHAPTER III
On Horsell Common

I FOUND a little crowd of perhaps twenty people
surrounding the huge hole in which the cylin-
der lay. I have already described the appear-
ance of that colossal bulk, imbedded in the ground.
The turf and gravel about it seemed charred as if
by a sudden explosion. No doubt its impact had

caused a flash of lire. Henderson and Ogilvy were
not there. I think they perceived that nothing was
to be done for the present, and had gone away to
breakfast at Henderson's house.

There were four or five boys sitting on the edge
of the pit, with their feet dangling, and amusing
themselves — until I stopped them — by throwing
stones at the giant mas3. After I had spoken to
them about it, they began playing at "touch" in and
Out of the group of bystanders.

Among these were a couple of cyclists, a jobbing
gardener I employed sometimes, a girl carrying a
baby, Gregg the butcher and his little boy, and two
or three loafers and golf caddies who were accus-
tomed to hang about the railway station. There
was very little talking. Few of the common people
in England had anything but the vaguest astronom-
ical ideas in those days. Most of them were staring
quietly at the big table-like end of the cylinder,
which was still as Ogilvy and Henderson had left
it. I fancy the popular expectation of a heap of
charred corpses was disappointed at this inanimate
bulk. Some went away while I was there, and
other people came. I clambered into the pit and
fancied I heard a faint movement under my feet.
The top had certainly ceased to rotate.

It was only when I got thus close to it that the
strangeness of this object was at all evident to me.
At the first glance it was really no more exciting
than an overturned carriage or a tree blown across
the road. Not so much so, indeed. It looked like a
rusty gas-float half buried, more than anything else
in the world. It required a certain amount of scien-
tific education to perceive that the gray scale of
the thing was no common oxide, that the yellowish-
white metal that gleamed in the crack between the
lid and the cylinder had an unfamiliar hue. "Extra-
terrestrial" had no meaning for most of the on-
lookers.

At that time it was quite clear in my own mind
that the Thing had come from the planet Mars, but
I judged it improbable that it contained any living
creature. I thought the unscrewing might be auto-
matic. In spite of Ogilvy, I still believed that there
were men in Mars. My mind ran fancifully on the
possibilities of its containing manuscript, on the
difficulties in translation that might arise, whether
we should find coins and models in it, and so forth.
Yet it was a little too large for assurance on this
idea. I felt an impatience to see it opened. About
eleven, as nothing seemed happening, I walked back,
full of such thoughts, to my home in Maybtiry. But
I found it difficult to get to work upon my abstract
investigations.

In the afternoon the appearance of the common
had altered very much. The early editions of the
evening papers had startled London with enormous
headlines:

"A MESSAGE RECEIVED FROM MARS,"
"Remarkable Story from Woking,"

and so forth. In addition, Ogilvy's wire to the As-
tronomical Exchange had roused every observatory
in the three kingdoms. .

There were half a dozen cabs or more from the
Woking station standing in the road by the sand-
pits, a basket chaise from Chobham, and a rather

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS

427

lordly carriage. Besides that, there was quite a
heap of bicycles. In addition, a large number of
people must have walked, in spite of the heat of the
day, from Woking and Chertsey, so that there was
altogether quite a considerable crowd — one or two
gaily dressed ladies among the others.

It was glaringly hot, not a cloud in the sky, nor a
breath of wind, and the only shadow was that of
the few scattered pine-trees. The burning heather
had been extinguished, but the level ground towards
Ottershaw was blackened as far as one could see,
and still giving off vertical streamers of smoke. An
enterprising sweet stuff dealer in the Chobham Road
had sent up his son with a barrow-load of green
apples and ginger-beer.

Going to the edge of the pit, I found it occupied
by a group of about half a dozen men — Henderson,
Ogilvy, and a tall fair-haired man that I afterwards
learned was Stent, the Astronomer Royal, with sev-
eral workmen wielding spades and pickaxes. Stent
was giving directions in a clear, high-pitched voice.
He was standing on the cylinder, which was now
evidently much cooler; his face was crimson and
streaming with perspiration, and something seemed
to have irritated him.

A large portion of the cylinder had been uncover-
ed, though its lower end was still embedded. As
soon as Ogilvy saw me among the staring crowd on
the edge of the pit, he called to me to come down,
and asked me if I would mind going over to see
Lord Hilton, the lord of the manor.

The growing crowd, he said, was becoming a
serious impediment to their excavations, especially
the boys. They wanted a light railing put up, and
help to keep the people back. He told me that a
faint stirring was occasionally still audible within
the ease, but that the workmen had failed to un-
screw the top, as it afforded no grip to them. The
case appeared to be enormously thick, and it was
possible that the faint sounds we heard represented
a noisy tumult in the interior.

I was very glad to do as he asked, and so become
one of the privileged spectators within the contem-
plated enclosure. I failed to find Lord Hilton at his
house, but I was told he was expected from London
by the six o'clock train from Waterloo; and as it
was then about a quarter past five, I went home,
had some tea, and walked up to the station to way-
lay him.

CHAPTER IV
The Cylinder Unscrews

WHEN I returned to the common the sun was
setting. Scattered groups were hurrying
from the direction of Woking, and one or
two persons were returning. The crowd about the
pit had increased, and stood out black against the
lemon-yellow of the sky — a couple of hundred people
perhaps. There were a number of voices raised,
and some sort of struggle appeared to be going on
about the pit. Strange imaginings passed through
my mind. As I drew nearer I heard Stent's voice :
"Keep back! Keep back!"
A boy came running towards me.
"It's a movin'," he said to me as he passed — "a-
screwin' and a-serewin' out. I don't like it. I'm a-
goin' 'ome, I am."

I went on to the crowd. There were really, I
should think, two or three hundred people elbowing
and jostling one another, the one or two ladies there
being by no means the least active.

"He's fallen in the pit!" cried someone.

"Keep back!" said several.

The crowd swayed a little, and I elbowed my way
through. Everyone seemed greatly excited. I heard
a peculiar humming sound from the pit.

"I say!" said Ogilvy, "help keep those idiots back.
We don't know what's in the confounded thing, you
know 1"

I saw a young man, a shop assistant in Woking
I believe he was, standing on the cylinder and trying
to scramble out of the hole again. The crowd had
pushed him in.

The end of the cylinder was being screwed out
from within. Nearly two feet of shining screw pro-
jected. Somebody blundered against me, and I nar-
rowly missed being pitched on to the top of the
screw. I turned, and as I did so the screw must
have come out, and the lid of the cylinder fell upon
the gravel with a ringing concussion. I stuck my
elbow into the person behind me, and turned my
head towards the Thing again. For a moment that
circular cavity seemed perfectly black. I had the
sunset in my eyes.

I think everyone expected to see a man emerge —
possibly something a little unlike us terrestrial men,
but in all essentials a man. I know I did. But,
looking, I presently saw something stirring within
the shadow — grayish billowy movements, one above
another, and then two luminous discs like eyes.
Then something resembling a little snake, about
the thickness of a walking-stick, coiled up out of
the writhing middle, and wriggled in the air to-
wards me— and then another.

A sudden chill came over me. There was a loud
shriek from a woman behind. I half turned, keep-
ing my eyes fixed upon the cylinder still, from
which other tentacles were now projecting, and be-
gan pushing my way back from the edge of the
pit. I saw astonishment giving place to horror on
the faces of the people about me. I heard inarticu-
late exclamations on all sides. There was a gen-
eral movement backward. I saw the shopman
struggling still on the edge of the pit. I found
myself alone, and saw the people on the other side
of the pit running off. Stent among them. I looked
again at the cylinder, and ungovernable terror
gripped me. I stood petrified and staring.

A big grayish, rounded bulk, the size, perhaps, of
a bear, was rising slowly and painfully out of the
cylinder. As it bulged up and caught the light, it
glistened like wet leather. Two large dark-colored
eyes were regarding me steadfastly. It was
rounded, and had, one might say, a face. There
was a mouth under the eyes, the lipless brim of
which quivered and panted, and dropped saliva.
The body heaved and pulsated convulsively. A lank
tentacular appendage gripped the edge of the cylin-
der, another swayed in the air.

Those who have never seen a living Martian can
scarcely imagine the strange horror of their ap-
pearance. The peculiar V-shaped mouth with its
pointed upper lip, the absence of brow ridges, the
absence of a chin beneath, the wedge-like lower lip,

428

AMAZING STORIES

the incessant quivering of this mouth, the Gorgon
groups of tentacles, the tumultuous breathing of
the lungs in a strange atmosphere, the evident
heaviness and painfulness of movement, due to the
greater gravitational energy of the earth — above
all, the extraordinary intensity of the immense eyes
— culminated in an effect akin to nausea. There
was something fungoid in the oily brown skin,
something in the clumsy deliberation of their tedi-
ous movements unspeakably terrible. Even at this
first encounter, this first glimpse, I was overcome
with disgust and dread.

SUDDENLY the monster vanished. It had
toppled over the brim of the cylinder and fallen
into the pit, with a thud like the fall of a great
mass of leather. I heard it give a peculiar thiek
cry, and forthwith another of these creatures ap-
peared darkly in the deep shadow of the aperture.

At that my rigour of terror passed away. I
turned and, running madly, made for the first
group of trees, perhaps a hundred yards away;
but I ran slantingly and stumbling, for I could not
avert my face from these things.

There, among some young pine-trees and furze
bushes, I stopped, panting, and waited further de-
velopments. The common round the sand-pits was
dotted with people, standing, like myself, in a half-
fascinated terror, staring at these creatures, or-,
rather, at the heaped gravel at the edge of the pit
in which they lay. And then with a renewed hor-
ror, I saw a round, black object bobbing up and
down on the edge of the pit. It was the head of
the shopman who had fallen in, but showing as a
little black object against the hot western sky.
Now he got his shoulder and knee up, and again
he seemed to slip hack until only his head was
visible. Suddenly he vanished, and I could have
fancied a faint shriek had reached me. I had a
momentary impulse to go back and help him that
my fears overruled.

Everything was then quite invisible, hidden by
the deep pit and the heap of sand that the fall of
the cylinder had made. Anyone coming along the
road from Chobham or Woking would have been
amazed at the sight— a dwindling multitude of per-
haps a hundred people or more standing in a great
irregular circle, in ditches, behind bushes, behind
gates and hedges, saying little to one another, and
that in short, excited shouts, and staring, staring
hard at a few heaps of sand. The barrow of gin-
ger-beer stood, a queer derelict, black against the
burning sky, and in the sand-pits was a row of
deserted vehicles with their horses feeding out of
nose-bags or pawing the ground.

CHAPTER V
The Heat- Ray

AFTER the glimpse I had had of the Martians
emerging from the cylinder in which they
had come to the earth from their planet, a
kind of fascination paralyzed my actions. I re-
mained standing knee-deep in the heather, staring
at the mound that hid them. I was a battle-
ground of fear and curiosity.

I did not dare to go back toward the pit, but I
felt a passionate longing to peer into it. I began

walking, therefore, in a big curve, seeking some
point of vantage, and continually looking at the
sand heaps that hid these new-comers to our earth.
Once a Icash of thin black whips, like the arms of
an octopus, flashed across the sunset and was im-
mediately withdrawn, and afterwards a thin rod
rose up, joint by joint, bearing at its apex a circu-
lar disc that spun with a wobbling motion. What
could be going on there?

Most of the spectators had gathered in one or
two groups — one a little crowd towards Woking,
the other a knot of people in the direction of Chob-
ham. Evidently they shared my mental conflict.
There were few near me. One man I approached —
he was, I perceived, a neighbour of mine, though
I did not know his name — and accosted. But it
was scarcely a time for articulate conversation.

"What ugly brutes!" he said. "Good God! what
ugly brutes!" He repeated this over and oyer
again.

"Did you see a man in the pit?" I said; but He
made me no answer to that. We became silent,
and stood watching for a time side by side, deriv-
ing, I fancy, a certain comfort in one another's
company. Then I shifted my position to a little
knoll that gave me the advantage of a yard or more
of elevation, and when I looked for him presently
he was walking towards Woking.

The sunset faded to twilight before anything
further happened. The crowd far away on the
left, towards Woking, seemed to grow, and I heard
now a faint murmur from it. The little knot of
people towards Chobham dispersed. There was
scarcely an intimation of movement from the pit.

It was this, as much as anything, that gave
people courage, and I suppose the new arrivals
from Woking also helped to restore confidence. At
any rate, as the dusk came on, a slow intermittent
movement upon the sand-pits began, a movement
that seemed to gather force as the stillness of the
evening about the cylinder remained unbroken.
Vertical black figures in twos and threes would ad-
vance, stop, watch, and advance again, spreading
out as they did so in a thin irregular crescent that
promised to enclose the pit in its attenuated horns.
I, too, on my side began to move towards the pit.

Then I saw some cabmen and others had walked
boldly into the sand-pits, and heard the clatter of
hoofs and the grind of wheels. I saw a lad trund-
ling off the barrow of apples. And then, within
thirty yards of the pit, advancing from the direc-
tion of Horsell I noted a little black knot of men,
the foremost of whom was waving a white flag.

This was the Deputation. There had been a
hasty consultation, and, since the Martians were
evidently, in spite of their repulsive forms, intelli-
gent creatures, it had been resolved to show them,
by approaching them with signals, that we, too,
were intelligent.

Flutter, flutter, went the flag, first to the right,
then to the left. It was too far for me to recogr
nize anyone there, but afterwards I learned that
Ogilvy, Stent, and Henderson were with others in
this attempt at communication. This little group
had in its advance dragged inward, so to speak, the
circumference of the now almost complete circle

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS

of people, and a number of dim black figures fol-
lowed it at discreet distances.

Suddenly there was a flash of light, and a
quantity of luminous greenish smoke came out of
the pit in three distinct puffs, which drove up, one
after the other, straight into the still air.

This smoke (or flame, perhaps, would be the
better word for it) was bo bright that the deep
blue sky overhead, and the hazy stretches of brown
common towards Chertsey, set with black pine-
trees, seemed to darken abruptly as these puffs
arose, and to remain the darker after their dis-
persal. At the same time a faint hissing sound
became audible.

BEYOND the pit atood the little wedge of people,
with the white flag at its apex, arrested by
these phenomena, a little knot of small vertical
black shapes upon the black ground. As the green
smoke rose, their faces flashed out pallid green,
and faded again as it vanished.

Then slowly the hissing passed into a humming,
into a long, loud, droning noise. Slowly a humped
shape rose out of the pit, and the ghost of a beam
of light seemed to flicker out from it.

Forthwith flashes of actual flame, a bright glare
leaping from one to another, sprang from the scat-
tered group of men. It was as if some invisible
jet impinged upon them and flashed into white
flame. It was as if each man were suddenly and
momentarily turned to fire.

Then, by the light of their own destruction, I
saw them staggering and falling, and their sup-
porters turning to run.

I stood staring, not as yet realizing that this
was death leaping from man to man in that little
distant crowd. All I felt was that it was some-
thing strange. An almost noiseless and blinding
flash of light, and a man fell headlong and lay
still, and as the unseen shaft of heat passed over
them, pine-trees burst into fire, and every dry
furze-bush became with one dull thud a mass of
flames. And far away towards Knaphill I saw
the flashes of trees and hedges and wooden build-
ings suddenly set alight.

It was sweeping round swiftly and steadily, this
flaming death, this invisible, inevitable sword of
heat. I perceived it coming towards me by the
flashing bushes it touched, and was ton astounded
and stupefied to stir. I heard the crackle of fire
in the sand-pits and the sudden squeal of a horse
that was as suddenly stilled. Then it was as if an
invisible yet intensely heated finger was drawn
through the heather between me and the Martians,
and all along a curving line beyond the sand pits
the dark ground smoked and crackled. Something
fell with a crash, far away to the left where the
road from Woking Station opens out on the com-
mon. Forthwith the hissing and humming ceased,
and the black, dome-like object 3ank slowly out
of sight into the pit.

All this had happened with such swiftness that
I had stood motionless, dumfounded and dazzled by
the flashes of light. Had that death swept through
a full circle, it must inevitably have slain me in
my surprise. But it passed and spared me, and

left the night about me suddenly dark and un-
familiar.

The undulating common seemed now dark almost
to blackness, except where its roadways lay gray
and pale under the deep-blue sky of the early night.
It was dark, and suddenly void of men. Overhead
the stars were mustering, and in the west the sky
was still a pale, bright, almost greenish blue. The
tops of the pine-trees and the roofs of Horsell
came out sharp and black against the western after-
glow. The Martians and their appliances were al-
together invisible, save for that thin mast upon
which their restless mirror wobbled. Patches of
bush and isolated trees here and there smoked
and glowed still, and the houses towards Woking
Station were sending up spires of flame into the
stillness of the evening air.

Nothing was changed save for that and a terrible
astonishment. The little group of black specks
with the flag of white had been swept out of exis-
tence, and the stillness of the evening, so it seemed
to me, had scarcely been broken.

It came to me that I was upon this dark com-
mon, helpless, unprotected and alone. Suddenly
like a thing falling upon me from without came —
Fear.

With an effort I turned and began a stumbling
run through the heather.

The fear I felt was no rational fear but a panic
terror, not only of the Martians, but of the dusk
and stillness all about me. Such an extraordinary
effect in unmanning me it had that I ran weeping
silently as a child might do. Once I had turned,
I did not dare to look back.

I remember I felt an extraordinary persuasion
that I was being played with, that presently, when
I was upon the very verge of safety, thi3 mysteri-
ous death — as swift as the passage of light — would
leap after me from the pit about the cylinder, and
strike me down.

CHAPTER VI
The Heat-Ray in the Chobham Road

IT is still a matter of wonder how the Martians
are able to slay men so swiftly and so silently.
Many think that in some way. they are able to
generate an intense heat in a chamber of practically
absolute non-conductivity. This intense heat they
project in a parallel beam against any object they
choose by means of a polished parabolic mirror
of unknown composition— much as the parabolic
mirror of a lighthouse projects a beam of light.
But no one has absolutely proved these details.
However it is done, it is certain that a beam of
heat is the essence of the matter. Heat, and in-
visible, instead of visible light. Whatever is com-
bustible flashes into flame at its touch, lead runs
like water, it softens iron, cracks and melts glass,
and when it falls upon water incontinently that ex-
plodes into steam.

That night nearly forty people lay under the
starlight about the pit, charred and distorted be-
yond recognition, and all night long the common
from Horsell to Maybury was deserted, and
brightly ablaze.

The news of the massacre probably reached
Chobham, Woking, and Ottershaw about the same

mo

AMAZING STORIES

time. In Woking the shops had closed when the
tragedy happened, and a number of people, shop-
people and so forth, attracted by the stories they
had heard, were walking over Horsell Bridge and
along the road between the hedges that run out at
last upon the common. You may imagine the
young people brushed up after the labors of the
day, and making this novelty, as they would make
any novelty, the excuse for walking together and
enjoying a trivial flirtation. Yon may figure to
yourself the hum of voices along the road in the
gloaming. . . .

As yet, of course, few people in Woking even
knew that the cylinder had opened, though poor
Henderson had sent a messenger on a bicycle to
the post-office with u special wire to an evening
paper.

As these folks came out by twos and threes upon
the open they found little knots of people talking
excitedly, and peering at the spinning mirror over
the sand-pits, and the new-comers were, no doubt,
soon infected by the excitement of the occasion.

By half-past eight, when the Deputation was de-
stroyed, there may have been a crowd of 300 people
or more at this place, besides those who had left
the road to approach the Martians nearer. There
were three policemen, too, one of whom was
mounted, doing their best, under instructions from
Stent, to keep the people back and deter them from
approaching the cylinder. There was some booing
from those more thoughtless and excitable souls to
whom a crowd is always an occasion for noise and
horse-play.

Stent and Ogilvy, anticipating some possibilities
of a collision, had telegraphed from Horsell to the
barracks as soon as the Martians emerged, for the
help of a company of soldiers to protect these
strange creatures from violence. After that they
returned to lead that ill-fated advance. The de-
scription of their death, as it was seen by the
crowd, tallies very closely with my own impres-
sions: the three puffs of green smoke, the deep
humming note, and the flashes of flame.

But that crowd of people had a far narrower
escape than mine. Only the fact that a hummock
of heathery sand intercepted the lower part of the
Heat-Ray saved them. Had the elevation of the
parabolic mirror been a few yards higher, none
could have lived to tell the tale. They saw the
flashes, and the men falling, and an invisible hand,
as it were, lit the bushes as it hurried towards them
through the twilight. Then, with a whistling note
that rose above the droning of the pit, the beam
swung close over their heads, lighting the tops of
the beech-trees that line the road, and splitting the
bricks, smashing the windows, firing the window-
frames, and bringing down in crumbling ruin a
portion of the gable of the house nearest the corner.

In the sudden thud, hiss and glare of the igniting
trees, the panic-stricken crowd seems to have
3wayed hesitatingly for some moments.

Sparks and burning twigs began to fall into the
road, and single leaves like puffs of flame. Hats
and dresses caught fire. Then came a crying from
the common.

There were shrieks and shouts, and suddenly a
mounted policeman came galloping through the

confusion with his hands clasped over his head,

screaming.

"They're coming!" a woman shrieked, and in-
continently everyone was turning and pushing at
those behind, in order to clear their way to Woking
again. They must have bolted as blindly as a
flock of sheep. Where the road grows narrow and
black between the high banks the crowd jammed
and a desperate struggle occurred. All that crowd
did not escape; three persons at least, two women
and a little boy, were crushed and trampled there
and left to die amidst the terror and the darkness.

CHAPTER VII
How I Reached Home

FOR my own part, I remember nothing of my
flight except the stress of blundering against
trees and stumbling through the heather. All
about me gathered the invisible terrors of the Mar-
tians; that pitiless sword of heat seemed whirling
to and fro, flourishing overhead before it descended
and smote me out of life. I came into the road be-
tween the cross-roads and Horsell, and ran along
this to the cross-roads.

At last I could go no further; I was exhausted
with the violence of my emotion and of my flight,
and I staggered and fell by the wayside. That was
near the bridge that crosses the canal by the gas-
works. I fell and lay still.

I must have remained there some time.
I sat up, strangely perplexed. For a moment,
perhaps, I could not clearly understand how I came
there. My terror had fallen from me like a gar-
ment. My hat had gone, and my collar had burst
away from its stud. A few minutes before there
had only been three real things before me — the
immensity of the night and space and nature, my
own feebleness and anguish, and the near approach
of death. Now it was as if something turned over,
and the point of view altered abruptly. There was
no sensible transition from one state of mind to
the other. I was immediately the self of every
day again, a decent ordinary citizen. The silent
common, the impulse of my flight, the starting
flames, were as if it were a dream. I asked myself
had these latter things indeed happened, I could
not credit it.

I rose and walked unsteadily up the steep incline
of the bridge. My mind was blank wonder. My
muscles and nerves seemed drained of their
strength. I dare say I staggered drunkenly. A
head rose over the arch, and the figure of a work-
man carrying a basket appeared. Beside him ran
a little boy. He passed me, wishing me good-
night. I was minded to speak to him, and did
not. I answered his greeting with a meaningless
mumble and went on over the bridge.

Over the Maybury arch a train, a billowing
tumult of white, firelit smoke, and a long cater-
pillar of lighted windows, went flying south : clat-
ter, clatter, clap, rap, and it had gone. A dim
group of people talked in the gate of one of the
houses in the pretty little row of gables that was
called Oriental Terrace. It was all so real and so
familiar. And that behind me! It was frantic,
fantastic! Such things, I told myself, could not
be.

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS

431

Perhaps I am a man of exceptional moods. I
do not kjiow how far my experience is common.
At times I suffer from the strangest sense of de-
tachment from myself and the world about me; I
seem to watch it all from the outside, from some-
where inconceivably remote, out of time, out of
space, out of the stress and tragedy of it all. This
feeling was very strong upon me that night. Here
was another side to my dream.

But the trouble was the blank incongruity of this
serenity and the swift death flying yonder, not
twp miles away. There was a noise of 'business
from the gasworks and the electric lamps were all
alight. I stopped at the group of people.

"What new3 from the common?" said I.

There were two men and a woman at the gate.

"Eh?'* said one of the men, turning.

"What news from the common?" I said.

"Ain't yer just been there?" asked the men.

"People seem fair silly about the common," said
the woman over the gate. "What's it all abart?"

"Haven't you heard of the men from Mara?"
said I. "The creatures from Mars?"

"Quite enough," said the woman over the gate.
"Thenks;" and all three of them laughed.

I felt foolish and angry. I tried and found I
could not tell them what I had seen. They laughed
again at my broken sentences.

"You'll hear more yet," I said, and went on to
my home,

T STARTLED my wife at the doorway, so haggard
■J- was I. I went into the dining-room, sat down,
drank .some wine, and so soon as I could collect
myself sufficiently told her the things I had seen.
The dinner, which was a cold one, had already been
served, and remained neglected on the table while
I told my story.

"There is one thing," I said to allay the fears
I had aroused. "They are the most sluggish things
I ever saw crawl. They may keep the pit and kill
people who come near them, but they cannot get
out of it. . . . But the horror of them!"

"Don't, dear!" said my wife, knitting her brows
and putting her hand on mine.

"Poor Ogilvy!" I said. "To think he may be
lying dead there!"

My wife at least did not find my experience in-
credible. When I saw how deadly white her face
was, I ceased abruptly.

"They may come here," she said again and again.

I pressed her to take wine, and tried to reassure
her.

"They can scarcely move," I said.

I began to comfort her and myself by repeating
all that Ogilvy had told me of the impossibility of
the Martians establishing themselves on the earth.
In particular I laid stress on the gravitational diffi-
culty. On the surface of the earth the force of
gravity is three times what it is on the surface
of Mars. A Martian, therefore, would weigh three
times more than on Mars, albeit his muscular
strength would be the same. His own body would
be a cope of lead to him, therefore. That indeed
was the general opinion. Both the Times and the
GoAly Telegro&h, for instance, insisted on it the

next morning, and both overlooked, just as I did,
two obvious modifying influences.

The atmosphere of the earth, we now know, con-
tains far more oxygen or far less nitrogen (which-
ever way one likes to put it) than does Mars. The
invigorating influences of this excess of oxygen
upon the Martians indisputably did much to count-
erbalance the increased weight of their bodies.
And, in the second place, we all overlooked the fact
that such mechanical intelligence as the Martian
possessed was quite able to dispense with muscu-
lar exertion at a pinch.

But I did not consider these points at the time,
and so my reasoning was dead against the chances
of the invaders. With wine and food, the confi-
dence of my own table, and the necessity of reas-
suring my wife, I gnw, by insensible degrees,
courageous and secure.

"They have done a foolish thing," said I, finger-
ing my wineglass. "They are dangerous, because
no doubt they are mad with terror. Perhaps they
expected to find no living things — certainly no in-
telligent living things. A shell in the pit," said I,
"if the worst comes to the worst, will kill them all."

The intense excitement of the events had no
doubt left my perceptive powers in a state of ere-
thism. I remember that dinner-table with ex-
traordinary vividness even now. My dear wife's
sweet, anxious face peering at me from under the
pink lamp-shade, the white cloth with its silver and
glass table furniture — for in those days even
philosophical writers had many little luxuries — the
crimson-purple wine in my glass, are photographi-
cally distinct. At the end of it I sat, tempering
nuts with a cigarette, regretting Ogilvy's rashness,
and denouncing the short-sighted timidity of the
Martians.

So some respectable dodo in the Mauritius might
have lorded it in his nest, and discussed the ar-
rival of that shipful of pitiless sailors in want of
animal food. "We will peck them to death to-
morrow, my dear."

I did not know it, but that was the last civilized
dinner I was to eat for very many long and terrible
day3.

CHAPTER VIII
Friday Night

THE most extraordinary thing to my mind,
of all the strange and wonderful things that
happened upon that Friday, was the dove-
tailing of the commonplace habits of our social
order with the first beginnings of the series of
events that was to topple that social order head-
Jong. If on Friday night you had taken a pair of
compasses and drawn a circle with a radius of
five miles round the Woking sand-pits, I doubt if
you would have had one human being outside it,
unless it was some relation of Stent or of the
three or four cyclists or London people who lay
dead on the common, whose emotions or habits
were not at all affected by the new-comers. Many
people had heard of the cylinder, of course, and
talked about it in their leisure, but it certainly did
not make the sensation an ultimatum to Germany
would have done.

In London that night poor Henderson's telegram

432

AMAZING STORIES

riff-cribing the gradual unscrewing of the shot was
judged to be a canard, and his evening paper, after
wiring for authentication from him and receiving
no reply — the man was killed — decided not to print
a special edition.

Within the five-mile circle even the great ma-
jority of people were inert. I have already de-
scribed the behaviour of the men and women to
whom I spoke. All over the district people were
dining and supping; working-men were gardening
after the labors of the day, children' were being
put to bed, young people were wandering through
the lanes love-making, students sat over their books.

Maybe there was a murmur in the village streets,
a novel and dominant topic in the public-houses,
and here and there a messenger, or even an eye-
witness of the later occurrences, caused a whirl of
excitement, a shouting and a running to and fro;
but for the most part the daily routine of working,
eating, drinking, sleeping, went on as it had done
for countless years — ■ as though no planet Mars
existed in the sky. Even at Woking Station and
Horsell and Chobham that was the case.

In Woking Junction, until a late hour, trains
were stopping and going on, others were shunting
on the sidings, passengers were alighting and wait-
ing, and everything was proceeding in the most
ordinary way. A boy from town, trenching on
Smith's monopoly, was selling papers with the
afternoon's news. The ringing and impact of
trucks, the sharp whistle of the engines from the
junction, mingled with his shouts of "Men from
Mars!" Excited men came into the station about
nine o'clock, with incredible tidings, and caused no
more disturbance than drunkards might have done.
People rattling London wards peered into the dark-
ness outside the carriage windows and saw only
a rare, flickering, vanishing spark dance up from
the direction of Horsell, a red glow and a thin veil
of smoke driving across the stars, and thought that
nothing more serious than a heath fire was hap-
pening. It was only around the edge of the common
that any disturbance was perceptible. There were
half a dozen villas burning on the Woking border.
There were lights in all the houses on the common
side of the three villages, and the people there kept
awake till dawn.

A curious crowd lingered restlessly, people com-
ing and going but the crowd remaining, both on
the Chobham and Horsell bridges. One or two
adventurous souls, it was afterwards found, went
into the darkness and crawled quite near the Mar-
tians, but they never returned, for now and again
a light-ray, like the beam of a warship's search-
light, swept the common, and the Heat-Kay was
ready to follow. Save for such, that big area of
common was silent and desolate, and the charred
bodies lay about on it all night under the stars, and
all the next day. A noise of hammering from the
pit was heard by many people.

qO you have the state of things on Friday night.
O In the centre, sticking into the skin of our old
planet Earth like a poisoned dart, was this cylin-
der. But the poison was scarcely working yet.
Around it was a patch of silent common, smoulder-
ing in places, and with a few dark, dimly-seen

objects lying in contorted attitudes here and there.
Here and there was a burning bush or tree. Beyond
was a fringe of excitement, and further than that
fringe the inflammation had not crept as yet. In
the rest of the world the stream of life still flowed
as it had flowed for immemorial years. The fever
of war that would presently clog vein and artery,
deaden nerve and destroy brain, had still to de-
velop.

AH night long the Martians were hammering
and stirring, sleepless, indefatigable, at work upon
the machines they were making ready, and ever
and again a puff of greenish-white smoke whirled
up to the starlit sky.

About eleven a company of soldiers came through
Horsell, and deployed along the edge of the com-
mon to form a cordon. Later a second company
marched through Chobham to deploy on the north
side of the common. Several officers from the
Inkerman barracks had been on the common earlier
in the day, and one, Major Eden, was reported to
be missing. The Colonel of the regiment came to
the Chobham bridge, and was busy questioning
the crowd at midnight. The military authorities
were certainly alive to the seriousness of th'e busi-
ness. About eleven, the next morning's papers
were able to say, a squadron of hussars, two
Maxims, and about 400 men of the Cardigan regi-
ment, started from Aldershot.

A few seconds after midnight the crowd in the
Chertsey road, Woking, saw a star fall from heaven
into the pine-woods to the north-west. It fell with
a greenish light, causing a flash of light like sum-
mer lightning. This was the second cylinder.

CHAPTER IX
The Fighting Begins

SATURDAY lives in my memory as a day of
suspense. It was a day of lassitude too, hot
and close, with, I am told, a rapidly fluctu-
ating barometer. I had slept but little, though my
wife had succeeded in sleeping, and I rose early.
I went into my garden before breakfast, and stood
listening, but towards the common there was noth-
ing stirring but a lark.

The milkman came as usual. I heard the rattle
of his chariot, and I went round to the side-gate to
ask the latest news. He told me that»during the
night the Martians had been surrounded by troops,
and that guns were expected. Then, a familiar
reassuring note, I heard a train running towards
Woking.

"They aren't to be killed," said the milkman, "if
that can possibly be avoided."

I saw my neighbor gardening, chatted with him
for a time, and then strolled in to breakfast. It
was a most unexceptional morning. My neighbor
was of opinion that the troops would be able to
capture or to destroy the Martians during the day.

"It's a pity they make themselves so unapproach- *
able," he said. "It would be curious to learn how
they live on another planet; we might learn a thing
or two."

He came up to the fence and extended a handful
of strawberries, for his gardening was as generous
as it was enthusiastic. At the same time he told

THE WAR OF

me of the burning of the pine-woods about the
Byfleet Golf Links.

"They say," said he, "that there's another of
those blessed things fallen there — number two. But
one's enough, surely. This lot'll cost the insurance
people a pretty penny before everything's settled."
He laughed with an air of the greatest good-humor
as he said this. The woods, he said, were still
burning, and pointed out a haze of smoke to me.
"They will be hot under foot for days on account
of the thick soil of pine-needles and turf," he said,
and then grew serious over "poor Ogilvy!"

After breakfast, instead of working, I decided
to walk down towards the common. Under the
railway- bridge I found a group of soldiers — sap-
pers, I think, men in small round caps, dirty red
jackets unhuttoned, and showing their blue shirts,
dark trousers, and boots coming to the calf. They
told me no one was allowed over the canal, and,
looking along the road towards the bridge, I saw
one of the Cardigan men standing sentinel there.
I talked with these soldiers for a time; I told them
of my sight of the Martians on the previous eve-
ning. None of them had seen the Martians, and
they had but the vaguest ideas of them, so that
they plied mo with questions. They said that they
did not know who had authorized the movements of
the troops; their idea was that a dispute had arisen
at the Horse Guards. The ordinary sapper is a
great deal better educated than the common
soldier, and they discussed the peculiar conditions
of the possible fight with some acuteness. I de-
scribed the Heat-Ray to them, and they began to
argue among themselves.

"Crawl up under cover and rush 'em, say I,"
said one.

"Get aht !" said another. "What's Cover against
this 'ere 'eat? Sticks to cook yer! What we got
to do is to go as near as the ground'll let us, and
then drive a trench."

"Blow yer trenches! You always want trenches;
you ought to ha' been born a rabbit, Snippy."

"Al'n't they got any necks, then?" said a third
abruptly — a little, contemplative, dark man, smok-
ing, a pipe.

I repeated my description.

"Octopuses," said he, "that's what I calls 'em.
Talk about fishers of men— fighters of fish it is
this time !**

"It ain't no murder killing beasts like that," said
the first speaker.

"Why not shell the darn things strife off and
finish 'em?" said the little dark man. "You carnt
tell what they might do."

"Where's your shells?" said the first speaker.
"There ain't no time. Do it in a rush, that's my
tip, and do it at once."

So they discussed it. After a while I left them,
and went on to the rail way -station to get as many
morning papers as I could.

But I will not weary the reader with a descrip-
tion of that long morning and of the ionger after-
noon. I did not succeed in getting a glimpse of
the common, for even Horse!! and Chobham church
towers were in the hands of the military authori-
ties. The soldiers I addressed didn't know any-
thing; the officers were mysterious as well as busy.

THE WORLDS 433

I found people in the town quite secure again in
the presence of the military, and I heard for the
first time from Marshall, the tohacconist, that his
son was among the dead on the common. The
soldiers had made the people on the outskirts of
Horsell lock up and leave their houses.

I GOT back to lunch about two, very tired, for,
as I have said, the day was extremely hot and
dull, and in order to refresh myself I took a cold
bath in the afternoon. About half-past four I went
up to the railway-station to get an evening paper,
for the morning papers had contained only a very
inaccurate description of the killing of Stent, Hen-
derson, Ogilvy, and the others. But there was
little I didn't know. The Martians did not show
an inch of themselves. They seemed busy in their
pit, and there was a sound of hammering and an
almost continuous streamer of smoke. Apparently,
they were busy getting ready for a struggle.
"Fresh attempts nave been made to signal, but
without success," was the stereotyped formula of
the papers. A sapper told me it was done by a
man in a ditch with a flag on a long pole. The
Martians took as much notice of such advances
as we should of the lowing of a cow.

I must confess the sight of all this armament,
all this preparation, greatly excited me. My imag-
ination became belligerent, and defeated the in-
vaders in a dozen striking ways; something of
my schoolboy dreams of battle and heroism came
back. It hardly seemed a fair fight to me at that
time. They seemed very helpless in this pit of
theirs.

About three o'clock there began the thud of a
gun at measured intervals from Chertsey or Addle-
stone. I learned that the smouldering pine-wood
into which the second cylinder had fallen was being
shelled, in the hope of destroying that object before
it opened. It was only about five, however, that
a field-gun reached Chobham for use against the
first body of Martians.

About six in the evening, as I sat at tea with
my wife in the summer-house talking vigorously
about the hattle that was lowering upon us, I
heard a muffled detonation from the common, and
immediately after a gust of firing. Close on the
heels of that came a violent, rattling crash, quite
close to us, that shook the ground; and, starting
out upon the lawn, I saw the tops of the trees
about the Oriental College burst into smoky red
flame, and the tower of the little church beside it
slide down into ruin. The pinnacle of the mosque
had vanished, and the roof-line of the college itself
looked as if a hundred-ton gun had been at work
upon it. One of our chimneys cracked as if a
shot had hit it, flew, and the piece of it came clat-
tering down the tiles and made a heap of broken
red fragments upon the flower-bed by my study
window.

I and my wife stood amazed. Then I realized
that the crest of Maybury Hil! must be within
range of the Martians' Heat-Ray now that the col-
lege was cleared out of the way.

At that I gripped my wife's arm, and without
ceremony ran her out into the road. Then I fetched

4-34

AMAZING STORIES

out the servant, telling her I would go upstairs
myself for the box she was clamouring for.

"We can't possibly stay here," I said; and as I
spoke the firing re-opened for a moment upon the
common.

"But where are we to go?" said my wife in
terror.

I thought, perplexed. Then I remembered her
cousins at Leather head.

"Leatherhead !" I shouted above the sudden noise.

She looked away from me downhill. The people
were coming out of their houses astonished.

"How are we to get to Leatherhead?" she said.

Down the hill I saw a bevy of hussars ride under
the railway-bridge ; three galloped through the
open gates of the Oriental College; two others dis-
mounted, and began running from house to house.
The sun, shining through the smoke that drove up
from the tops of the trees, seemed blood-red, and
threw an unfamiliar lurid light upon everything.

"Stop here," said I; "you are safe here;" and
I started off at once for the Spotted Dog, for I
knew the landlord had a horse and dogcart. I ran,
for I perceived that in a moment everyone upon
this side of the hill would be moving. I found him
in his bar, quite unaware of what was going on
behind his house. A man stood with his back to
me, talking to him.

"I must have a pound," said the landlord, "and
I've no one to drive it."

"I'll give you two," said I, over the stranger's
shoulder.

"What for?"

"And I'll bring it back by midnight," I said.

"Lord!" said the landlord, "what's the hurry?
I'm selling my bit of a pig. Two pounds, and you
bring it back? What's going on now?"

I explained hastily that I had to leave my home,
and so secured the dogcart. At the time it did not
seem to me nearly so urgent that the landlord
should leave his. I took care to have the cart there
and then, drove it off down the road, and, leaving
it in charge of my wife and servant, rushed into
my house and packed a few valuables, such plate
as we had, and so forth. The beech-trees below
the house were burning while I did this, and the
palings up the road glowed red. While I was oc-
cupied in this way, one of the dismounted hussars
came running up. He was going from house to
house, warning people to leave. He was going on
as I came out of my front-door, lugging my treas-
ures, done up in a table-cloth. I shouted after
him:

"What news?"

He turned, atared, bawled something about
"crawling out in a thing like a dish cover," and
ran on to the gate of the house at the crest. A
sudden whirl of black smoke driving across the
road hid him for a moment. I ran to my neigh-
bor's door, and rapped to satisfy myself, what I
already knew, that his wife had gone to London
with him, and had locked up their house. I went
in again according to my promise to get my
servant's box, lugged it out, clapped it beside her
on the tail of the dogcart, and then caught the
reins and jumped up into the driver's seat beside
my wife. In another moment we were clear of

the smoke and noise, and spanking down the op-
posite slope at Maybury Hill towards Old Woking.

In front wa3 a quiet sunny landscape, a wheat-
field ahead on either side of the road, and the May-
bury Inn with its swinging sign. I saw the doc-
tor's cart ahead of me. At the bottom of the hill
I turned my head to look at the hillside I was leav-
ing. Thick streamers of black smoke shot with
threads of red fire were driving up into the still
air, and throwing dark shadows upon the green
tree-tops eastward. The smoke already extended
far away to the east and weBt— to the By fleet pine-
woods eastward, and to Woking on the west. The
road was dotted with people running towards us.
And very faint now, but very distinct through the
hot, quiet air, one heard the whirr of a machine-
gun that was presently stilled, and an intermittent
crackling of rifles. Apparently, the Martians were
setting fire to everything within range of their
Heat-Ray.

I am not an expert driver, and I had immediately
to turn my attention to the horse. When I looked
back again the second hill had hidden the black
smoke. I slashed the horse with the whip, and
gave him a loose rein until Woking and Send lay
between us and that quivering tumult. I overtook
and passed the doctor between Woking and Send.

CHAPTER X
In the Storm

LEATHERHEAD is about twelve miles from
Maybury Hill. The scent of hay was in the
air through the lush meadows beyond Pyr-
ford, and the hedges on either side were sweet and
gay with multitudes of dog-roses. The heavy firing
that had broken out while we were driving down
Maybury Hill ceased as abruptly as it began, leav-
ing the evening very peaceful and still. We got
to Leatherhead without misadventure about nine
o'clock, and the horse had an hour's rest while I
took supper with my cousins and commended my
wife to their care.

My wife waa curiously silent throughout the
drive, and seemed oppressed with forebodings of
evil, I talked to her reassuringly, pointing out
that the Martians were tied to the pit by sheer
heaviness, and, at the utmost, could but crawl a
little out of it, but -she answered only in mono-
syllables. Had it not been for my promise to the
innkeeper, she would, I think, have urged me to
stay in Leatherhead that night. Would that I had!
Her face, I remember, was very white as we
parted.

For my own part, I had been feverishly excited
all day. Something very like the war-fever, that
occasionally runs through a civilized community,
had got into my blood, and in my heart I was not
so very sorry that I had to return to Maybury that
night. I waa even afraid that last fusillade I had
heard might mean the extermination of our in-
vaders from Mars. I can best express my state
of rrind by saying that I wanted to be in at the
death.

It waa nearly eleven when I started to return.
The night was unexpectedly dark; to me, walking
out of the lighted passage of my cousin's house, it

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS

435

seemed indeed black, and it was as hot and close as
the day. Overhead the clouds were driving fast,
albeit not a breath stirred the shrubs about us.
My cousin's man lit both lamps. Happily, I knew
the road intimately. My wife stood in the light
of the doorway, and watched me until I jumped
up into the dogcart. Then abruptly she turned
and went in, leaving my cousins side by side wish-
ing me good hap.

I was a little depressed at first with the con-
tagion of my wife's fears, but very soon my
thoughts reverted to the Martians. At that time
I was absolutely in the dark as to the course of
the evening's fighting. I did not know even the
circumstances that had precipitated the conflict.
As I came through Ockham (for that was the way
I returned, and not through Send and Old Wok-
ing) I saw along the western horizon a blood-red
glow, which, as I drew nearer, crept slowly up the
sky. The driving clouds of the gathering thunder-
storm mingled there with masses of black and red
smoke.

Ripley Street was deserted, and except for a
lighted window or so the village showed not a
sign of life; but I narrowly escaped an accident
at the corner of the road to Pyrford, where a knot
of people stood with their backs to me. They said
nothing to me as T passed. T do not know what they
knew of the things happening beyond the hill, nor
do I know if the silent houses T passed on my way
were sleeping securely, or deserted and empty, or
harassed and watching against the terror of the
night.

From Ripley until T came through Pyrford I
was in the valley of the Wey, and the red glare
was hidden from me. As T ascended the little hill
beyond Pyrford Church the glare came into view
again, and the trees about me shivered with the
first intimation of the storm that was upon me.
Then I heard midnight pealing out from Pyrford
Church behind me, and then came the Silhouette
of Maybury Hill, with its tree-tops and roofs black
and sharp against the red.

Even as T beheld this a lurid green glare lit
the road about me, and showed the distant woods
towards Addlestone. I felt a tug at the reins.
T saw that the driving clouds had been pierced ;is
it were by a thread of green fire, suddenly light-
ing their confusion and falling into the fields to
my left. It was the Third Falling Star!

Close on its apparition, and blindingly violet by
contrast, danced out the first lightning of the gath-
ering storm, and the thunder burst like a rocket
overhead. The horse took the bit between his teeth
and bolted.

A moderate incline runs down towards the foot
of Maybury Hill, and down this we clattered. Once
the lightning had begun, it went on in as rapid a
succession of flashes as I have ever seen. The
thunder-claps, treading one on the heels of another
and with a strange crackling accompaniment,
sounded more like the working of a gigantic elec-
tric machine than the usual detonating reverbera-
tions. The flickering light was blinding and eon-
fusing, and a thin hail smote gustily at my face
as I drove down the slope.

AT first I regarded little but the road before
me, and then abruptly my attention was ar-
rested by something that was moving rapidly down
the opposite slope of Maybury Hill. At first I took
it for the wet roof of a house, but one flash fol-
lowing another showed it to be in swift rolling
movement. It was an elusive vision — a moment
bewildering darkness, and then in a flash like day-
light, the red masses of the Orphanage near the
crest of the hill, the green tops of the pine-trees,
and this problematical object came out clear and
sharp and bright.

And this thing I saw! How can I describe it?
A monstrous tripod, higher than many houses,
striding over the young pine-trees, and smashing
them aside in its career; a walking engine of glit-
tering metal, striding now across the heather;
articulate ropes of steel dangling from it, and the
clattering tumult of its passage mingling with the
riot of the thunder. A flash, and it came out
vividly, heeling over one way with two feet in
the air, to vanish and reappear almost instantly
as it seemed, with the next flash, a hundred yards
nearer. Can you imagine a milking-stool tilted and
bowled violently along the ground? That was the
impression those instant flashes gave. But instead
of a milking-stool imagine it a great body of ma-
chinery on a tripod stand.

Then suddenly the trees in the pine-wood ahead
of me were parted, as brittle reeds are parted by
a man thrusting through them; they were snapped
off and driven headlong, and a second huge tripod
appeared, rushing, as it seemed, headlong towards
me. And I was galloping hard to meet it! At
the sight of the second monster my nerve went
altogether. Not stopping to look again, I wrenched
the horse's head hard round to the right, and in
another moment the dogcart had heeled over upon
the horse; the shafts smashed noisily, and I was
flung sideways and fell heavily into a shallow pool
of water.

I crawled out almost immediately, and crouched,
my feet still in the water, under a clump of furze.
The horse lay motionless (his neck was broken,
poor brute!), and by the lightning flashes I saw
the black bulk of the overturned dogcart, and the
silhouette of the wheel still spinning slowly. In an-
other moment the colossal mechanism went strid-
ing by me, and passed uphill towards Pyrford.

Seen nearer, the thing was incredibly strange,
for it was no mere insensate machine driving on its
way. Machine it was, with a ringing metallic pace,
and long flexible glittering tentacles (one of which
gripped a young pine-tree) swinging and rattling
about its strange body. It picked its road as it
went striding along, and the brazen hood that sur-
mounted it moved to and fro with the inevitable
suggestion of a head looking about it. Behind the
main body was a huge thing of white metal like
a gigantic fisherman's basket, and puffs of green
smoke squirted out from the joints of the limbs
as the monster swept by me. And in an instant
it was gone.

So much I saw then, all vaguely for the flicker-
ing of the lightning, in blinding high lights and
dense black shadows.

As it passed it set up an exultant deafening

436

AMSZ1TSG' STORIES

howl that drowned the thunder, "AIoo! aloo!" and
in another minute it was with its companion, and
half a mile away, stooping over something in the
field. I have no doubt this thing in the field was
the third of the ten cylinders they had fired at us
from Mars.

For some minutes I lay there in the rain and
darkness watching, by the intermittent light, these
monstrous beings of metal moving ahout in the
distance over the hedge-tops. A thin hail was
now beginning, and as it came and went, their
figures grew misty and then flashed into clearness
again. Now and then came a gap in the lightning,
and the night swallowed them up.

I was soaked with hail above and puddle-water
below. It was some time before my blank astonish-
ment would let me struggle up the bank to a drier
position, or think at all about my imminent peri!.

Not far from me was a little one-roomed squat-
ter's hut of wood, surrounded by a patch of potato-
garden. I struggled to my feet at last, and, crouch-
ing and making use of every chance of cover, I
made a run for this. I hammered at the door,
but I could not make the people hear (if there
were any people inside), and after a time I de-
sisted, and, availing myself of a ditch for the
greater part of the way, succeeded in crawling,
unobserved by these monstrous machines, into the
pine-wood towards Maybury.

Under cover of this I pushed on, wet and shiver-
ing now, towards my own house. I walked among
the trees trying to find the footpath. It was very
dark indeed in the wood, for the lightning was
now becoming infrequent, and the hail, which waa
pouring down in a torrent, fell in columns through
the gaps in the heavy foliage.

If I had fully realized the meaning of all the
things I had seen I should have immediately
worked my way round through Byfleet to Street
Cobham, and so gone back to rejoin my wife at
Leatherhead. But that night the strangeness of
things about me, and my physical wretchedness,
prevented me, for I was bruised, weary, wet to the
skin, deafened and blinded by the storm.

I had a vague idea of going to my own house,
and that was as much motive as I had. I staggered
through the trees, fell into a ditch and bruised
my knees against a plank, and finally splashed out
into the lane that ran down from the College Arms.
I say splashed, for the storm water was sweeping
the sand down the hill in a muddy torrent. There
in the darkness a man blundered into me and sent
me reeling back.

He gave a cry of terror, sprang sideways, and
rushed on before I could gather my wits sufficiently
to speak to him. So heavy was the stress of the
storm just at this place that I had the hardest
task to win my way up the hill. I went close up
to the fence on the left and worked my way along
its palings.

Near the top I stumbled upon something soft,
and, by a flash of lightning, saw between my feet
a heap of black broadcloth and a pair of boots.
Before I could distinguish clearly how the man lay,
the flicker of light had passed. I stood over him
waiting for the next flash. When it came, I saw
that he was a sturdy man, cheaply but not shabbily

dressed; his bead was bent under his Dody, and
he lay crumpled up close tp the fence, as though he
had been flung violently against it.

Overcoming the repugnance natural to one who
had never before touched a dead body, I stooped
and turned him over to feel for his heart. He waa
quite dead. Apparently his neck bad been broken.
The lightning flashed for a thix-d time, and his
face leapt upon me. I sprang to my feet. -It was
the landlord of the Spotted Dog, whose conveyance
I had taken.

I stepped over him gingerly and pushed on up
the bill. I made my way by the police-station and
the College Arms towards my own house. Nothing
was burning on the hillside, though from the com-
mon there still came a red glare and a rolling
tumult of ruddy smoke beating up against the
drenching hail. So far as I could see by the flashes,
the houses about me were mostly uninjured. By
the College Arms a dark heap lay in the road.

Down the road towards Maybury Bridge there
were voices and the sound of feet, but I had not
the courage to shout or to go to them. I let my-
self in with my latchkey, closed, locked and bolted
the door, staggered to the foot of the staircase and
sat down. My imagination was full of those strid-
ing metallic monsters, and of the dead body
smashed against the fence.

I crouched at the foot of the staircase with my
back to the wall, shivering violently.

CHAPTER XI
At the Window

I HAVE said already that my storms of emo-
tion have a trick of exhausting themselves.
After a time I discovered that I was cold and
wet, and with little pools of water about me on
the stair-carpet. I got up almost mechanically,
went into the dining-room and drank some whisky,
and then I was moved to change my clothes.

After I had done that I went upstairs to my
study, but why I did so I do not know. The win-
dow of my study looks over the trees and the rail-
way towards Horsell Common. In the hurry of
our departure this window had been left open.
The passage was dark, and, by contrast with the
picture the window-frame enclosed, that side of the
room seemed impenetrably dark. I stopped short
in the doorway.

The thunderstorm had passed. The towers of
the Oriental College and the pine-trees about it had
gone, and very far away, lit by a vivid red glare,
the common about the fand-pits was visible.
Across the light, huge black shapes, grotesque and
strange, moved busily to and fro.

It seemed, indeed, as if the whole country in that
direction was on fire— -a broad hillside set with
minute tongues of flame, swaying and writhing
with the gusts of the dying storm, and throwing
a red reflection upon the cloud scud above. Every
now and then a haze of smoke from some nearer
conflagration drove across the window and hid the
Martian shapes. I could not see what they were
doing, nor the clear form of them, nor recognize
the black objects they were busied upon. Neither
could I see the nearer fire, though the reflections

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS

437

of it danced on the wall and ceiling of the study. A
sharp, resinous twang of burning was in the air.

I closed the door noiselessly and crept towards
the window. As I did so, the view opened out
until, on the one hand, it reached to the houses
about Woking Station, and on the other to the
charred and blackened pine-woods of Byfteet.
There was a light down below the hill, on the rail-
way, near the arch, and several of the houses along
the Maybury road and the streets near the station
were glowing ruins. The light upon the railway
puzzled me at first ; there was a black heap and a
vivid glare, and to the right of that a row of yel-
low oblongs. Then I perceived this was a wrecked
train, the fore part smashed and on fire, the hinder
carriages still upon the rails.

Between these three main centres of light, the
houses, the train, and the burning country towards
Chobham, stretched irregular patches of dark coun-
try, broken here and there by intervals of dimly
glowing and smoking ground. It was the strangest
spectacle, that black expanse set with fire. It re-
minded me, more than anything else, of the Pot-
teries seen at night. People at first I could dis-
tinguish none, though I peered intently for them.
Later I saw against the light of Woking Station
a number of black figures hurrying one after the
other across the line.

And this was the little world in which I had
been- living securely for years, this fiery chaos!
What had happened in the last seven hours I still
did not know, nor did I know, though I was be-
ginning to guess, the relation between these me-
chanical colossuses and the sluggish lumps I had
seen disgorged from the cylinder. With a queer feel-
ing of impersonal interest I turned my desk-chair
to the window, sat down, and stared at the black-
ened country, and particularly at the three gigantic
black things that were going to and fro in the
glare about the sand-pits.

They seemed amazingly busy. I began to ask
myself what they could be. Were they intelligent
mechanisms? Such a thing I felt was impossible.
Or did a Martian sit within each, ruling, directing,
using, much as a man's brain sits and rules in his
body? I began to compare the things to human
machines, to ask myself for the first time in my
life how an ironclad or a steam-engine would seem
to an intelligent lower animal.

The storm had left the sky clear, and over the
smoke of the burning land the little fading pin-
point of Mars was dropping into the west, when
the soldier came into my garden. I heard a slight
scraping at the fence, and rousing myself from
the lethargy that had fallen upon me, I looked
down and saw him dimly, clambering over the pal-
ings. At the sight of another human being my
torpor passed, and I leaned out of the window
eagerly.

"Hist!" said I in a whisper.

He stopped astride of the fence in doubt. Then
he came over and across the lawn to the corner of
the house. He bent down and stepped softly.

"Who's there?" he said, also whispering, stand-
ing under the window and peering up.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"God knows."

"Are you trying to hide in here?" I inquired.
"That's it."

"Come into the house," I said.

I went down, unfastened the door and let him in,
and locked the door again. I could not see his
face. He was hatless, and his coat was unbuttoned.

"A/T^ God!" he said as I drew him in.

IVi. "What has happened?" I asked.

"What hasn't?" In the obscurity I could see
he made a gesture of despair. "They wiped us
out — simply wiped us out," he repeated again and
again.

He followed me, almost mechanically, into the
dining-room.

"Take some whisky," I said, pouring out a stiff

dose.

He drank it. Then abruptly he sat down before
the table, put his head on his arms, and began to
sob and weep like a little boy, in a perfect passion
of emotion, while I, with a curious forgetfulness
of my own recent despair, stood beside him won-
dering.

It was a long time before he could steady his
nerves to answer my questions, and then he an-
swered perplexingly and brokenly. He was a driver
in the artillery, and had only come into action
about seven. At that time firing was going on
across the common, and it was said the first party
of Martians were crawling slowly towards their
second cylinder under cover of a metal shield.

Later this shield staggered up on tripod legs, and
became the first of the fighting machines I had
seen. The gun he drove had been unlimbered near
Horsell, in order to command the sand-pits, and
its arrival had precipitated the action. As the
limber gunners went to the rear, his horse trod in
a rabbit-hole and came down, throwing him into a
depression of the ground. At the same moment
the gun exploded behind him, the ammunition blew
up, there was fire all about him, and he found him-
self lying among a heap of charred dead men and
dead horses.

"I lay still," he said, "seared out of my wita,
with the fore-quarter of a horse atop of me. We'd
been wiped out. And the smell — good God ! Like
burnt meat ! I was hurt across the back by the
fall of the horse, and there I had to lie until I felt
better. Just like parade it had been a minute be-
fore—then stumble, bang, swish!

"Wiped out!" he said.

He had hidden behind the dead horse for a long
time, peeping out furtively across the common. The
Cardigan men had tried a rush, in skirmishing
order, at the pit, simply to be swept out of exist-
ence. Then the monster had risen to its feet, and
had begun to walk leisurely to and fro across the
common, among the few fugitives, with its head-
like hood turning about exactly like the head of a
cowled human being. A kind of arm carried a
complicated metallic case, about which green flashes
scintillated, and out of the funnel of this there
smote the Heat-Ray.

In a few minutes there was, so far as the soldier
could see, not a living thing left upon the common,
and every bush and tree upon it that was not al-
ready a blackened skeleton was burning. The hus-

438

AMAZING STORIES

sars had been on the road beyond the curvature of
the ground, and he saw nothing of them. He
heard the Maxims rattle for a time, and then be-
eome still. Tho giant saved Woking Station and
its cluster of houses until last; then in a moment
the Heat-Ray was brought to bear, and the town
became a heap of fiery ruins. Then the thing shut
off the Heat-Ray, and, turning its back upon the
artilleryman, began to waddle away towards the
smouldering pine-woods that sheltered the second
cylinder. As it did so, a second glittering Titan
built itself up out of the pit.

The second monster followed the first, and at
that the artilleryman began to crawl very cautious-
ly across the hot heather aah towards Horsell. He
managed to get alive into the ditch along by the
side of the road, and so escaped to Woking. There
his story became e.jaculatory. The place was im-
passable. It seems there were a few people alive
there, frantic for the most part, and many burnt
and scalded. He was turned aside by the fire, and
hid among some almost scorching heaps of broken
wall as one of the Martian giants returned. He
saw this one pursue a man, catch him up in one
of its steely tentacles, and knock his head against
the trunk of a pine-tree. At last, after nightfall,
the artilleryman made a rush for it and got over
the railway embankment.

Since then he had been skulking along towards
Mayhury, in the hope of getting out of danger
Londonward. People were hiding in trenches and
collars, and many of the survivors had made off
towards Woking Village and Send. He had been
consumed with thirst until he found one of the
water mains near the railway arch smashed, and
the water bubbling out like a spring upon the
road.

That was the story I got from him bit by bit. He
grew calmer telling me and trying to make me
see the things he had seen. He had eaten no food
since midday, he told me early in his narrative, and
I found some mutton and bread in the pantry and
brought it into the room. We lit no lamp, for fear
of attracting the Martians, and ever and again our
hands would touch upon bread or meat. As he
talked, things about us came darkly out of the dark-
ness, and the trampled bushes and broken rose-trees
outside the window grew distinct. It would seem
that a number of men or animals had rushed across
the lawn. I began to see his face, blackened and
haggard, as no doubt mine was also.

WHEN we had finished eating we went softly
upstairs to my study, and I looked again out
of the open window. In one night the valley had
hecome a valley of ashes. The fires had dwindled
now. Where flames had been there were now
streamers of smoke; but the countless ruins of
shattered and gutted houses and blasted and black-
ened trees that the night had hidden stood out now
gaunt and terrible in the pitiless light of dawn. Yet
here and there some object had had the luck to es-
cape — a white railway signal here, the end of a
greenhouse there, white and fresh amidst the
wreckage. Never before in the history of warfare
had destruction been so indiscriminate and so uni-
versal. And, shining with the growing light of the

east, three of the metallic giants stood about the
pit, their cowls rotating as though they were sur-
veying the desolation they had made.

It seemed to me that the pit had been enlarged,
and ever and again puffs of vivid green vapor
streamed up out of it towards the brightening dawn
— streamed up, whirled, broke, and vanished.

Beyond were the pillars of fire about Chobham.
They became pillars of bloodshot smoke at the first
touch of day,

CHAPTER XII

What I Saw of the Destruction of Weybridge
and Shepperton

AS the dawn grew brighter we withdrew our-
selves from the window from which we had
watched the Martians, and went very quietly
downstairs.

The artilleryman agreed with me that the house
was no place to stay in. He proposed, he said, to
make his way Londonward, and thence rejoin his
battery — No. 12, of the Horse Artillery. My plan
was to return at once to Leatherhead, and so greatly
had the strength of the Martians impressed me that
I had determined to take my wife to Newhaven, and
go with her out of the country forthwith. For I
already perceived clearly that the country about
London must inevitably be the scene of a disastrous
struggle before such creatures as these could be
destroyed.

Between us and Leatherhead, however, lay the
third cylinder, with its guarding giants. Had I
been alone, I think I should have-taken my chance
and struck across country. But the artilleryman
diBsuaded me: "It's no kindness to the right sort
of wife," he said, "to make her a widow"; and in
the end I agreed to go with him, under cover of the
woods, northward as far as Street Cobham before
I parted with him. Thence I would make a big de-
tour by Epsom to reach Leatherhead.

I should have started at once, but my companion
had been in active service, and he knew better than
that. He made me ransack the house for a flask,
which he filled with whisky; and we lined every
available pocket with packets of biscuits and slices
of meat. Then we crept out of the house, and ran
as quickly as we could down the ill-made road by
which I had come overnight. The houses seemed
deserted. In the road lay a group of three charred
bodies close together, struck dead by the Heat-Ray;
and here and there were things that the people had
dropped — a clock, a slipper, a silver spoon, and the
like poor valuables. At the corner turning up to-
wards the post-office a little cart, filled with boxes
and furniture, and horseless, heeled over on a
broken wheel. A cash-box had been hastily smashed
open, and thrown under the debris.

Except the lodge at the Orphanage, which was
still on fire, none of the houses had suffered very
greatly here. The Heat-Ray had shaved the chim-
ney-tops and passed. Yet, save ourselves, there did
not seem to be a living soul on Maybury Hill. The
majority of the inhabitants had escaped, I suppose,
by way of the Old Woking road — the road I had
taken when I drove to Leatherhead — or they had
hidden.

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS

439

We went down the lane, by the body of the man
in black, sodden now from the overnight hail, and
broke into the woods at the foot of the hill. We
pushed through these towards the railway, without
meeting a soul. The woods across the line were but
l.he scarred and blackened ruins of woods; for the
most part the trees had fallen, but a certain pro-
portion still stood, dismal gray stems, with dark-
brown foliage instead of green,

On our side the fire had done no more than scorch
the nearer trees; it had failed to secure its footing.
In one place the woodmen had been at work on Sat-
urday; trees, felled and freshly trimmed, lay in a
clearing, with heaps of sawdust, by the sawing ma-
chine and its engine. Hard by was a temporary hut,
deserted. There was not a breath of wind this
morning, and everything was strangely still. Even
the birds were hushed, and as we hurried along, I
and the artilleryman talked in whispers, and looked
now and again over our shoulders. Once or twice
we stopped to listen.

After a time we drew near the road, and as we did
so we heard the clatter of hoofs, and saw through
the tree-stems three cavalry soldiers riding slowly
towards Woking. We hailed them, and they halted
while we hurried towards them. It was a lieutenant
and a couple of privates of the 8th Hussars, with a
stand like a theodolite, which the artilleryman told
me was a heliograph.

"You are the first men I've seen coming thin way
this orning," said the lieutenant. "What's brew-
ing?"

HIS voice and face were eager. The men behind
him stared curiously. The artilleryman jump-
ed down the bank into the road and saluted.

"Gun destroyed last night, sir. Have been hiding.
Trying to rejoin battery, sir. You'll come in sight
of the Martians, I expect, about half a mile along
this road."

"What the diekens are they like?" asked the lieu-
tenant.

"Giants in armor, sir. Hundred feet high. Three
legs and a body like 'luminium, with a mighty great
head in a hood', sir."

"Get out!" said the lieutenant. "What confounded
nonsense!"

"You'll see, sir. They carry a kind of box, sir,
that shoots fire and strikes you dead."
"What d'ye mean— a gun?"

"No, sir," and the artilleryman began a vivid ac-
count of the Heat-Ray. Halfway through the lieu-
tenant interrupted him and looked up at me. I was
still standing on the hank by the side of the road.

"Did you see it?" said "the lieutenant.

"It's perfectly true," I said.

"Well," said the lieutenant, "I suppose it's my
business to see it too. Look here" — to the artillery-
man — "we're detailed here clearing people out of
their houses. You'd better go along and report your-
self to Brigadier-General Marvin, and tell him all
you know. He's at Weybridge. Know the way?"

"I do," I said; and he turned his horse southward
again.

"Half a mile, you say?" said he.

"At most," I answered, and pointed over the tree-

tops southwards. He thanked me and rode on, and
we saw them no more.

Further along we came upon a group of three
women and two children in the road, busy clearing
out a laborer's cottage. They had got hold of a
little hand-truck, and were piling it up with un-
clean-looking bundles and shabby furniture. They
were all too assiduously engaged to talk to us as we
passed.

By By fleet Station we emerged from the pine-
trees, and found the country calm and peaceful un-
der the morning sunlight. We were far beyond the
range of the Heat-Ray there, and had it not been
for the silent desertion of some of the houses, the
stirring movement of packing in others, and the
knot of soldiers standing on the bridge over the
railway and staring down the line towards Woking,
the day would have seemed very like any other Sun-
day.

Several farm wagons and carts were moving
crcakily along the road to Addlestone, and suddenly
through the gate of a field we saw, across a stretch
of flat meadow, six twelve-pounders standing neatly
at equal distances and pointing toward Woking.
The gunners stood by the guns waiting, and the
ammunition wagons were at a business-like dis-
tance. The men stood almost as if under inspection.

"That's good!" said I. "They will get one fair
shot, at any rate."

The artilleryman hesitated at the gate.

"I shall go on," he said.

Further on towards Weybridge, just over the
bridge, there were a number of men in white fatigue
jackets throwing up a long rampart, and more guns
behind.

"It's bows and arrows against the lightning, any-
how," said the artilleryman. "They 'aven't seen that
fire-beam yet."

The officers who were not actively engaged stood
and stared over the tree-tops south-westward, and
the men digging would stop every now and again
to stare in the same direction.

Byfleet was in a tumult, people packing, and a
score of hussars, some of them dismounted, some
on horseback, were hunting them about. Three or
four black Government wagons, with crosses in
white circles, and an old omnibus, among other ve-
hicles, were being loaded in the village street. There
were scores of people, most of them sufficiently Sab-
batical to have assumed their best clothes. The
soldiers were having the greatest difficulty in mak-
ing them realize the gravity of their position. We
saw one shrivelled old fellow with a huge box and a
score or more of flower-pots containing orchids,
angrily expostulating with the corporal who would
leave them behind. I stopped and gripped his arm.

"Do you know what's over there?" I said, point-
ing at the pine-tops that hid the Martians.

"Eh?" said he, turning. "I was explainin' these
is vallyble."

"Death !" I shouted. "Death is coming ! Death 1"
and, leaving him to digest that if he could, I hur-
ried on after the artilleryman. At the corner I
looked back. The soldier had left him, and he was
still standing by his box with the pots of orchids
on the lid of it, and staring vaguely over the trees.

440

AMAZING STORIES

NO one in Weybridge could tell us where the
headquarters were established; the whole place
was in such confusion as I had never seen in any
town before. Carts, carriages everywhere, the most
astonishing miscellany of conveyances and horse-
flesh. The respectable inhabitants of the place, men
in golf and boating costumes, wives prettily dressed,
were packing, riverside loafers energetically help-
ing, children excited, and, for the most part, highly
delighted at this astonishing variation of their Sun-
day experiences. In the midst of it all the worthy
vicar was very pluekily holding an early celebra-
tion, and his bell was jangling out above the excite-
ment.

I and the artilleryman, seated on the step of the
drinking-fountain, made a very passable meal upon
what we had brought with us. Patrols of soldiers —
here no longer hussars, but grenadiers in white —
were warning people to move now or to take refuge
in their cellars as soon as the firing began. We
saw as we crossed the railway bridge that a grow-
ing crowd of people had assembled in and about the
railway-station, and the swarming platform was
piled with boxes and packages. The ordinary traf-
fic had been stopped, I believe, in order to allow
the passage of troops and guns to Chertsey, and I
have heard since that a savage struggle occurred
for places in the special trains that were put on at
a later hour.

WE remained at Weybridge until mid-day, and
at that hour we found ourselves at the place
near Shepperton Lock where the Wey and Thames
bin. Part of the time we spent helping two old
'omen to pack a little cart. The Wey had a treble
nouth, and at this point boats are to be hired, and
'.here was a ferry across the river. On the Shep-
perton side was an inn, with a lawn, and beyond
that the tower of Shepperton Church— it has been
replaced by a spire — rose above the trees.

Here we found an excited and noisy crowd of
fugitives. As yet the flight had not grown to a
panic, but there were already far more people than
all the boats going to and fro could enable to cross.
People came panting along under heavy burdens;
one husband and wife were even carrying a small
outhouse door between them, with some of their
household goods piled thereon. One man told us
he meant to try to get away from Shepperton Sta-
tion.

There was a lot of shouting, and one man was
even jesting. The idea people seemed to have here
was that the Martians were simply formidable hu-
man beings, who might attack and sack the town, to
be certainly destroyed in the end. Every now and
then people would glance nervously across the Wey,
at the meadows towards Chertsey, but everything
over there was still.

Across the Thames, except just where the boats
landed, everything was quiet, in vivid contrast with
the Surrey side. The people who landed there from
the boats went tramping off down the lane. The
big ferry-boat had just made a journey. Three or
four soldiers stood on the' lawn of the inn, staring
and jesting at the fugitives, without offering to
help. The inn was closed, as it was now within
prohibited hours.

"What's that!" cried a boatman, and "Shut up,
you fool!" said a man near me to a yelping dog.
Then the sound came again, this time from the di-
rection of Chertsey, a muffed thud- — the sound of a
gun.

The fighting was beginning. Almost immediately
unseen batteries across the river to our right, un-
seen because of the trees, took up the chorus, firing
heavily one after the other. A woman screamed.
Every one stood arrested by the sudden stir of bat-
tle, near us and yet invisible to us. Nothing was
to be seen save flat meadows, cows feeding uncon-
cernedly for the most part, and silvery pollard wil-
lows motionless in the warm sunlight.

"The sojers '11 stop 'em," said a woman beside me
doubtfully. A haziness rose over the tree-tops.

Then suddenly we saw a rush of smoke far away
up the river, a puff of smoke that jerked up into the
air, and hung, and forthwith the ground heaved
under foot and a heavy explosion shook the air,
smashing two or three windows in the houses near,
and leaving us astonished.

"Here they are !" shouted a man in a blue jersey.
"Yonder! D'yer see them? Yonder!"

Quickly, one after the other, one, two, three, four
of the armored Martians appeared, far away over
the little trees, across the flat meadows that stretch
towards Chertsey and striding hurriedly towards
the river. Little crowded figures they seemed at
first, going with a rolling motion and as fast as
flying birds.

Then, advancing obliquely towards us, came a
fifth. Their armored bodies glittered in the sun,
as they swept swiftly forward upon the guns, grow-
ing rapidly larger as they drew nearer. One on the
extreme left, the remotest, that is, flourished a huge
case high in the air, and the ghostly terrible Heat-
Ray I had already seen on Friday night smote to-
wards Chertsey, and struck the town.

At sight of these strange, swift, and terrible crea-
tures, the crowd along by the water's edge seemed
to me to be for a moment horror-struck. There was
no screaming-or shouting, but a silence. Then a
hoarse murmur and a movement of feet— a splash-
ing from the water. A man, too frightened to drop
the portmanteau he carried on his shoulder, swung
round and sent me staggering with a blow from
the corner of his burden. A woman thrust at me
with her hand and rushed past me. I turned, too.
with the rush of the people, but I was not too terri-
fied for thought. The terrible Heat-Ray was in my
mind. To get under water! That was it!

"Get under water!" I shouted unheeded.

I faced about again, and rushed towards the ap-
proaching Martians — rushed right down the grav-
elly beach and headlong into the water. Others did
the same. A boatload of people putting back came
leaping out as I rushed past. The stones under my
feet were muddy and slippery, and the river was so
low that I ran perhaps twenty feet scarcely waist-
deep. Then as the Martian towered overhead,
scarcely a couple of hundred yards away, I flung
myself forward under the surface. The splashes of
the people in the boats leaping into the river sound-
ed like thunderclaps in my ears. People were land-
ing hastily on both sides of the river.

But the Martian! machine took no more notice for

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS

441

the moment of the people running this way and that
than a man would of the confusion of ants in a nest
against which his foot was kicked. When, half suf-
focated, I raised my head above water the Martian's
hood pointed at the batteries that were still firing
across the river, and as it advanced it swung loose
what must have been the generator of the Heat-Ray.

IN another moment it was on the bank, and in a
atride wading half-way across. The knees of its
foremost legs bent at the further bank, and in an-
other moment it had raised itself to its ful! height
again, close to the village of Shepperton. Forthwith
the six guns, which, unknown to any one on the
right bank, had been hidden behind the outskirts
of that village, fired simultaneously. The sudden
near concussions, the last close upon the first, made
my heart jump. The monster was already raising
the case generating the Heat-Ray, as the first shell
burst six yards above the hood.

I gave a cry of astonishment. I saw and thought
nothing of the other four Martian monsters: my
attention was riveted upon the nearer incident. Si-
multaneously two other shells burst in the air near
the body as the hood twisted round in time to re-
ceive, but not in time to dodge, the fourth shell.

The shell burst clean in the face of the thing. The
hood bulged, flashed, was whirled off in a dozen tat-
tered fragments of red flesh and glittering metal.

"Hit!" shouted I, with something between a
scream and a cheer.

I heard answering shouts from the people in the
water about me. I could have leapt out of the water
with that momentary exultation.

The decapitated colossus reeled like a drunken
giant; but it did not fall over. It recovered its bal-
ance by a miracle, and, no longer heeding its steps,
and with the camera that fired the Heat-Ray now
rigidly upheld, it reeled swiftly upon Shepperton.
The living intelligence, the Martian within the hood,
was slain and splashed to the four winds of heaven,
and the thing was now but a mere intricate device
of metal whirling to destruction. It drove along in
a straight line, incapable of guidance. It struck the
tower of Shepperton Church, smashing it down as
the impact of a battering ram might have done,
swerved aside, blundered on, and collapsed with a
tremendous impact into the river out of my sight.

A violent explosion shook the air, and a spout of
water, steam, mud, and shattered metal, shot far up
into the sky. As the camera of the Heat-Ray hit
the water, the latter had incontinently flashed into
steam. In another moment a huge wave, like a
muddy tidal bore, but almost scaldingly hot, came
sweeping round the bend upstream. I saw people
BtTUgglirtg shorewards and heard their screaming
and shouting faintly above the seething and roar of
the Martian's collapse.

For the moment I heeded nothing of the heat, for-
got the patent need of self-preservation. I splashed
through the tumultuous water, pushing aside a man
in black to do so, until I could see round the bend.
Half a dozen deserted boats pitched aimlessly upon
the confusion of the waves. The fallen Martian
came into sight downstream, lying across the river,
and for the most part submerged.

Thick cioud3 of steam were pouring off the wreck-

age, and through the tumultuously whirling wisps
I could see, intermittently and vaguely, the gigantic
limbs churning the water and flinging a splash and
spray of mud and froth into the air. The tentacles
swayed and struck like living arms, and, save for
the helpless purposelessness of these movements, it
was as if some wounded thing struggled for life
amidst the waves. Enormous quantities of a ruddy
brown fluid were spurting up in noisy jets out of
the machine.

My attention was diverted from this 3ight by a
furious railing, like that of the thing called a siren
in our manufacturing towns. A man, knee-deep
near the towing-path, shouted inaudibly to me and
pointed. Looking back, I saw the other Martians*
advancing with gigantic strides down the river-bank
from the direction of Chertse3\ The Shepperton
guns spoke this time unavailingly.

At that I ducked at once under water, and, hold-
ing my breath until movement was an agony, blun-
dered painfully along under the surface as long as I
could. The water was in a tumult about me, and
rapidly growing hotter.

When for a moment I raised my head to take
breath, and throw the hair and water from my eyes,
the steam was rising in a whirling white fog that
at first hid the Martians altogether. The noise was
deafening. Then I saw them dimly, colossal figures
of gray, magnified by the mist. They had passed by
me, and two were stooping over the frothing tumul-
tuous ruins of their comrade.

The third and fourth stood beside him in the
water, one perhaps 200 yards from me, the other
towards Laleham. The generators of the Heat-Rays
waved high, and the hissing beams smote down this
way and that.

The air was full of sound, a deafening and con-
fusing conflict of noises, the clangorous din of the
Martians, the crash of falling houses, the thud of
trees, fences, sheds, flashing into flame, and the
crackling and roaring of fire. Dense black smoke
was leaping up to mingle with the steam from the
river, and as the Heat-Ray went to and fro over
Weybridge, its impact was marked by flashes of in-
candescent white, that gave place at once to a smoky
dance of lurid flames. The nearer houses still stood
intact, awaiting their fate, shadowy, faint and pal-
lid in the stream, with the fire behind them going to
and fro.

For a moment, perhaps, I stood there, breast-high
in the almost boiling water dumfounded at my posi-
tion, hopeless of escape. Through the reek I could
see the people who had been with me in the river
scrambling out of the water through the reeds, like
little frogs hurrying through grass from the ad-
vance of a man, or running to and fro in utter dis-
may on the towing-path.

Then suddenly the white flashes of the Heat-Ray
came leaping towards me. The houses caved in as
they dissolved at its touch, and darted out flames;
the trees changed to fire with a roar. It flickered
up and down the towing-path, licking off the people
who ran this way and that, and came down to the
water's edge not fifty yards from where I stood. It
swept across the river to Shepperton, and the water
in its track rose in a boiling wheal crested with
steam. I turned shoreward.

44.:

AMAZING STORIES

In another moment the huge wave, well-nigh at
the boiling-point, had rushed upon me. I screamed
aloud, and scalded, half blinded, agonized, I stag-
gered through the leaping, hissing water towards
the shore. Had my foot stumbled it would have
been the end. I fell helplessly, in full sight of the
Martians, upon the broad, bare gravelly spit that
runs down to mark the angle of the Wey and
Thames. I expected nothing but death.

I have- a dim memory of the foot of a Martian
coming down within a score of yards of my head,
driving straight into the loose gravel, whirling it
this way and that, and lifting again; of a long sus-
pense, and then of the four carrying the debris of
their comrade between them, now clear, and then
presently faint, through a veil of smoke, receding
interminably, as it seemed to me, across a vast
space of river and meadow. And then, very slowly,
I realized that by a miracle I had escaped.

CHAPTER XIII
In London
How I Fell In with the Curate

AFTER getting this sudden lesson in the power
of terrestrial weapons, the Martians retreat-
ed to their original position upon Horsell
Common, and in their haste, and encumbered with
the debris of their smashed companion, they no
doubt overlooked many such a stray and unneces-
sary victim as myself. Had they left their comrade',
and pushed on forthwith, there was nothing at that
time between them and London but batteries of
twelve-pounder guns, and they would certainly have
reached the capital in advance of the tidings of their
approach ; as sudden, dreadful and destructive their
advent would have been as the earthquake that de-
stroyed Lisbon a century ago.

But they were in no hurry. Cylinder followed cyl-
inder in its interplanetary flight; every twenty-four
hours brought them reinforcement. And meanwhile
the military and naval authorities, now fully alive
to the tremendous power of their antagonists, work-
ed with furious energy. Every minute a fresh gun
came into position, until, before twilight, every
copse, every row of suburban villas on the hilly
slopes about Kingston and Richmond, masked an
expectant black muzzle. And through the charred
and desolated area — perhaps twenty square miles
altogether — that encircled the Martian encampment
on Horsell Common, through charred and ruined
villages among the green trees, through the black-
ened and smoking arcades that had been but a day
ago pine spinneys, crawled the devoted scouts with
the heliographs that were presently to warn the
gunners of the Martian approach. But the Mar-
tians now understood our command of artillery and
Ihe danger of human proximity, and not a man ven-
tured within a mile of either cylinder, save at the
price of his life.

It would seem these giants spent the earlier part
of the afternoon In going to and fro. transferring
everything from the second and third cylinders —
the second in Addlestone Golf Links, and the third
at Pyrford — to their original pit upon Horsell Com-
mon. Over that, above the blackened heather and
ruined buildings that stretched far and wide, stood

one as sentinel, while the rest abandoned their vast
fighting-machines and descended into the pit. They
were hard at work there far into the night, and the
towering pillar of dense green smoke that rose
therefrom could be seen from the hills about Mer-
row, and even, it is said, from Banstead and Epsom
Downs.

And while the Martians behind me were thus pre-
paring for their next sally, and in front of me Hu-
manity gathered for the battle, 1 made my way,
with infinite pains and labor, from the fire and
smoke of burning Weybridge towards London.

I saw an abandoned boat, very small and remote,
drifting down-stream, and, throwing off the most of
my sadden clothes, I went after it, gained it, and so
escaped out of that destruction. There were no
oars in the boat, but I contrived to paddle, as much
as my parboiled hands would allow, down the river
towards Halliford and Walton, going very tediously,
and continually looking bphhid me, as you may well
understand. I followed the river because I consid-
ered the water gave me my best chance of escape,
should these giants return.

The hot water from the Martian's overthrow
drifted down-stream with me, so that for the best
part of a mile I could see little of either bank. Once,
however, I made out a string of black figures hurry-
ing across the meadows from the direction of Wey-
bridge. Halliford, it seemed, was quite deserted,
and several of the houses facing the river were on
fire. It was strange to see the place quite tranquil,
quite desolate under the hot blue sky, with the
smoke and little threads of flame going straight up
into the heat of the afternoon. Never before had I
seen houses burning without the accompaniment of
an inconvenient crowd. A little further on the dry
reeds up the bank were smoking and glowing, and
a line of fire inland was marching steadily across a
late field of hay.

For a long time I drifted, so painful and weary
was I after the violence I had been through, and so
intense the heat upon the water. Then my fears
got the hotter of me again, and I resumed my pad-
dling. The sun scorched my bare back. At last, as
the bridge at Walton was coming Into sight round
the bend, my fever and faintness overcame my fear3
and I landed on the Middlesex bank, and lay down,
deadly sick, amidst the long grass. I suppose the
time was then about four or five o'clock. I got up
presently, walked perhaps half a mile without meet-
ing a soul, and then lay down again in the shadow
of a hedge. I seem to remember talking wander-
ingly to myself during that last spurt. I was also
very thirsty, and bitterly regretful T had drunk no
more water. It is a curious thing that I felt angry
with my wife; I cannot account for it, but my im-
potent desire to reach Leatherhead worried me ex-
cessively.

I DO not clearly remember the arrival of the
curate, so that I probably dozed. I became aware
of him as a seated figure in soot-smudged shirt-
sleeves, and with his upturned clean-shaven face
staring at a faint flickering that danced over the
sky. The sky was what is called a mackerel sky,
rows and rows of faint down-plume3 of cloud, just
tinted with the midsummer sunset.

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS

4+3

I sat up, and at the rustle of my motion he looked
at me quickly.

"Have you any water?" I asked abruptly.
He shook his head.

"You have been asking for water for the last
hour," he said.

For a moment we were silent, taking stock of one
another. I dare say he found me a strange enough
figure, naked save for my water-soaked trousers and
socks, scalded, and my face and shoulders blackened
from the smoke. His face was a fair weakness, his
chin retreated, and his hair lay in crisp, almost
flaxen curls on his low forehead; his eyes were
rather large, pale blue, and blankly staring. He
spoke abruptly, looking vacantly away from me.

"What does it mean?" he said. "What do these
things mean?"

I stared at him and made no answer.

He extended a thin white hand and spoke in al-
most a complaining tone.

"Why are these things permitted? What sins
have we done? The morning service was over, I
was walking through the roads to clear my brain
for the afternoon, and then— fire, earthquake,
death! As if it were Sodom and Gomorrah! All
our work undone, Jill the work . . . What are these
Martians?"

"What are we?" I answered, clearing my throat.

He gripped his knees and turned to look at me
again. For half a minute, perhaps, he stared si-
lently.

"I was walking through the roads to clear my
brains," he said. "And suddenly fire, earthquake,
death 1"

He relapsed into silence, with his chin now sunk-
en almost to his knees.

Presently he began waving his hand :

"All the work — all the Sunday-schools. What
have we done— what has Weybridge done? Every-
thing gone — everything destroyed. The church!
We rebuilt it only three years ago. Gone! — swept
out of existence! Why?"

Another pause, and he broke out again like one
demented.

"The smoke of her burning goeth up for ever and
ever!" he shouted.

His eyes flamed, and he pointed a lean finger in
the direction of Weybridge.

By this time I was beginning to take his measure.
The tremendous tragedy in which he had been in-
volved — it was evident he was a fugitive from Wey-
bridge — had driven him to the very verge of his

"Are we far from Sunbury?" T said in a matter-
of-fact tone.

"What are we to do?" he asked. "Are these crea-
tures everywhere? Has the earth been given over
to them?"

"Are we far from Sunbury?"

"Only this morning I. officiated at early celebra-
tion. ..."

"Things have changed," I said quietly. "You must
keep your head. There is still hope."
"Hope!"

"Yes; plentiful hope — for all this destruction!"
I began to explain my view of our position. He
listened at first, hut as I went on the interest in his

eyes changed to their former stare, and his regard
wandered from me.

"This must be the beginning of the end," he said,
interrupting me. "The end! The great and ter-
rible day of the Lord! When men shall call upon
the mountains and the rocks to fall upon them and
hide them— hide them from the face of Him that
sitteth upon the throne!"

I began to understand the position. I ceased my
labored reasoning, struggled to my feet, and, stand-
ing over him, laid my hand on his shoulder.

"Be a man," said I. "You are scared out of your
wits. What good is religion if it collapses at calam-
ity? Think of what earthquakes and floods, wars
and volcanoes, have done before to men. Did you
think God had exempted Weybridge? ... He is
not an insurance agent, man."

For a time he sat in blank silence.

"But how can we escape?" he asked suddenly.
"They are invulnerable, they are pitiless. ..."

"Neither the one nor, perhaps, the other," I an-
swered. "And the mightier they are, the more sane
and wary should we be. One of them was killed
yonder not three hours ago."

"Killed!" he said, staring about him. "How can
God's ministers be killed?"

"I saw it happen," I proceeded to tell him. "We
have chanced to come in for the thick of it," said I,
"and that is all."

"What is that flicker in the sky?" he asked
abruptly.

I told him it was the heliograph signalling- — that
it was the sign of human help and effort in the sky.

"We are in the midst of it," I said, "quiet as it is.
That flicker in the sky tells of the gathering storm.
Yonder, I take it, are the Martians, and London-
ward, where those hills rise about Richmond and
Kingston, and the trees give cover, earthworks are
being thrown up and guns are being laid. Pres-
ently the Martians will be coming this way again."

And even as I spoke, he sprang to his feet and
stopped me by a gesture.
"Listen I" he said. . . .

From beyond the low hills across the water came
the dull resonance of distant guns and a remote,
weird crying. Then everything was still. A cock-
chafer came droning over the hedge and past us.
High in the west the crescent moon hung faint and
pale, above the smoke of Weybridge and Shepper-
ton and the hot still splendor of the sunset.

"We had better follow this path," I said, "north-
ward."

CHAPTER XIV
In London

MY younger brother was in London when the
Martians fell at Woking. He was a medi-
cal student, working for an imminent ex-
amination, and he heard nothing of the arrival until
Saturday morning. The morning papers on Satur-
day contained, in addition to lengthy special articles
on the planet Mars, on life in the planets, and so
forth, a brief and vaguely-worded telegram, all the
more striking for its brevity.

The Martians, alarmed by the approach of a

44+

AMAZING STORIES

crowd, had killed a number of people with a quick-
firing gun, so the story ran. The telegram con-
cluded with the words: "Formidable as they seem
to be, the Martians have not moved from the pit
into which they have fallen, and, indeed, seem in-
capable of doing so. Probably this is due to the
relative strength of the earth's gravitational en-
ergy." On that iast text the leader-writers ex-
panded very comfortingly.

Of course, all the students in the crammer's biol-
ogy class, to which my brother went that day, were
intensely interested, but there were no signs of any
unusual excitement in the streets. The afternoon
papers puffed scraps of news under big headlines.
They had nothing to tell beyond the movements of
troops about the common, and the burning of the
pine-woods between Woking and Weybridge, until
eight. Then the St. James's Gazette, in an extra
special edition, announced the bare fact of the in-
terruption of telegraphic communication. This was
thought to be due to the falling of burning pine-
trees across the line. Nothing more of the fighting
was known that night, the night of my drive to
Leather he ad and back.

My brother felt no anxiety about U3, as he knew
from the description in the papers that the cylinder
was a good two miles from my house. He made up
his mind to run down that night to me, in order, as
he says, to see the things before they were killed.
He despatched a telegram, which never reached me,
about four o'elock, and spent the evening at a music-
hall.

In London, also, on Saturday night there was a
thunderstorm, and my brother reached Waterloo in
a cab. On the platform from which the midnight
train usually starts he learnt, after some waiting,
that an accident prevented trains from reaching
Woking that night. The nature of the accident he
could not ascertain; indeed, the railway authorities
did not clearly know at that time. There was very
little excitement in the station, as the officials, fail-
ing to realize that anything further than a break-
down between Byfleet and Woking Junction had oc-
curred, were running the theatre trains, which us-
ually passed through Woking, round by Virginia
Water or Guildford. They were busy making the
necessary arrangements to alter the route of the
Southampton and Portsmouth Sunday League ex-
cursions. A nocturnal newspaper reporter, mistak-
ing my brother for the traffic manager, whom he
does to a slight extent resemble, waylaid and tried
to interview him. Few people, excepting the rail-
way officials, connected the breakdown with the
Martians.

I have read, in another account of these events,
that on Sunday morning "all London was electrified
by the news from Woking." As a matter of fact,
there was nothing to justify that very extravagant
phrase. Plenty of people in London did not hear of
the Martians until the panic of Monday morning.
Those who did took some time to realize all that the
hastily-worded telegrams in the Sunday papers con-
veyed. The majority of people in London do not
read Sunday papers.

The habit of personal security, moreover, is so
deeply fixed in the Londoner's mind, and startling
intelligence so much a matter of course in the

papers, that they could read without any personal
tremors: "About seven o'elock last night the Mar-
tians came out of the cylinder, and, moving about
under an armor of metallic shields, have completely
wrecked Woking Station, with the adjacent houses,
and massacred an entire battalion of the Cardigan
Regiment. No details are known. Maxims have
been absolutely useless against their armor; the
field-guns have been disabled by them. Flying hus-
sars have been galloping into Chcrtsey. The Mar-
tians appear to be moving slowly towards Chertsey
or Windsor. Great anxiety prevails in West Surrey,
and earthworks are being thrown up to check the
advance Londonwards." That was how the Sunday
Sun put it, and a clever and remarkably prompt
"hand-book" article in the Referee compared the
affair to a menagerie suddenly let loose in a village.

No one in London knew positively of the nature
of the armored Martians, and there was still a fixed
idea that these monsters must be sluggish: "crawl-
ing," "creeping painfully" — such expressions occur-
red in almost all the earlier reports. None of the
telegrams could have been written by an eye-witness
of their advance. The Sunday papers printed sep-
arate editions as further news came to hand, some
even in default of it. But there was practically
nothing more to tell people until late in the after-
noon, when the authorities gave the press agencies
the news in their possession. It was stated that the
people of Walton and Weybridge, and all that dis-
trict, were pouring along the roads Londonward,
and that was all.

■JlTY brother went to church at the Foundling
AVI Hospital in the morning, still in ignorance of
what had happened on the previous night There
he heard allusions made to the invasion, and a spe-
cial prayer for peace. Coming out, he bought a
Referee. He became alarmed at the news in this,
and went again to Waterloo Station to find out if
communication were restored. The omnibuses, car-
riages, cyclists, and innumerable people walking in
their best clothes, seemed scarcely affected by the
strange intelligence that the newsvendors were dis-
seminating. People were interested, or, if alarmed,
alarmed only on account of the local residents. At
the station he heard for the first time that the
Windsor and Chertsey lines were now interrupted.
The porters told him that several remarkable tele-
grams had been received in the morning from By-
fleet and Chertsey Stations, but that these had
abruptly ceased. My brother could get very little
precise detail out of them. "There's fighting going
on about Weybridge," was the extent of their infor-
mation.

The train service was now very much disorgan-
ized. Quite a number of people, who had been ex-
pecting friends from places on the South-Western
network, were standing about the station. One
gray. headed old gentleman came and abused the
South Western Company bitterly to my brother.
"It wanta showing up," he said.

One or two trains came in from Richmond. Put-
ney, and Kingston, containing people who had gone
nut for a day's boating, and found the locks closed
and a feeling of panic in the air. A man in a blue

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS

445

and white blazer addressed my brother, full of
strange tidings.

"There's hosts of people driving into Kingston in
traps and carts and things, with boxes of valuables
and all that," he said. "They come from Molesey
and Weybridge and Walton, and they say there'3
been guns heard at Chert sey, heavy firing, and that
mounted soldiers have told them to get off at once
because the Martians are coming. We heard guns
firing at Hampton Court Station, but we thought
it was thunder. What the dickens does it all mean?
The Martians can't get out of their pit, can they?"

My brother could not tell him.

Afterwards he found that the vague feeling of
alarm had spread to the clients of the underground
railway, and that the Sunday excursionists began
to return from all the South-Western "lungs" —
Barnes, Wimbledon, Richmond Park, Kew, and so
forth — at unnaturally early hours but not a soul
had anything but vague hearsay to tell of. Every-
one connected with the terminus seemed ill-tem-
pered.

About five o'clock the gathering crowd in the sta-
tion was immensely excited by the opening of the
line of communication, which is almost invariably
closed, between the South-Eastern and the South-
western stations, and the passage of carriage-
trucks bearing huge guns, and carriages crammed
with soldiers. These were the guns that were
brought up from Woolwich and Chatham to cover
Kingston. There was an exchange of pleasantries:
"You'll get eaten!" "We're the beast -tamers !" and
so forth. A little while after that a squad of police
came into the station, and began to clear the public
off the platforms, and my brother went out into the
street again.

The church bells were ringing for evensong, and
a squad of Salvation Army lasses came singing
down Waterloo Road. On the bridge a number of
loafers were watching a curious brown scum that
came drifting down the stream in patches. The sun
was just setting, and the Clock Tower and the
Houses of Parliament rose against nne of the most
peaceful skies it is possible to imagine, a sky of
gold, barred with long transverse stripes of reddish-
purple cloud. There was talk of a floating body.
One of the men there, a reservist he said he was,
told my brother he had seen the heliograph flicker-
ing in the west.

In Wellington Street my brother met a couple of
sturdy roughs, who bad just rushed out of Fleet
Street with still wet newspapers and staring plac-
ards. "Dreadful catastrophe!" they bawled one to
the other dpwn Wellington Street. "Fighting at
Weybridge ! Full description ! Repulse of the Mar-
tians! London said to be in danger!" He had to
give threepence for a copy of that paper.

Then it was, and then only, that he realized some-
thing of the full power and terror of these mon-
sters. He learnt that they were not merely a hand-
ful of small sluggish creatures, but that they were
minds swaying vast mechanical bodies, and that
they could move swiftly and smite with such power
that even the mightiest guns could not stand against
them.

They were described as "vast spider-like ma-
chines, nearly a hundred feet high, capable of the

speed' of an express train, and able to shoot out a
beam of intense heat." Masked batteries, chiefly
of field-guns, had been planted in the country about
Horsell Common, and especially between the Woking
district and London. Five of the machines had
been seen moving towards the Thames, and one, by
a freak of chance, had been destroyed. In the other
cases the shells had missed, and the batteries had
been at once annihilated by the Heat-Rays. Heavy
losses of soldiers were mentioned, but the tone of
the despatch was optimistic.

The Martians had been repulsed; they were not
invulnerable. They had retreated to their triangle
of cylinders again, in the circle about Woking. Sig-
nallers with heliographs were pushing forward upon
them from all sides. Guns were in rapid transit
from Windsor, Portsmouth, Aldershot, Woolwich —
even from the north; among others, long wire guns
of ninety-five tons from Woolwich. Altogether one
hundred and sixteen were in position or being hast-
ily laid, chiefly covering London. Never before in
England had there been such a vast or l apid concen-
tration of military material.

Any further cylinders that fell, it wa3 hoped,
could be destroyed at once by high explosives, which
were being rapidly manufactured and distributed.
No doubt, ran the report, the situation was of the
strangest and gravest description, but the public
was exhorted to avoid and discourage panic. No
doubt the Martians were strange and terrible in
the extreme, but at the outside there could not be
more than twenty of them against our millions.

The authorities had reason to suppose, from the
size of the cylinders, that at the outside there could
not be more than five in each cylinder — fifteen al-
together. And one at least was disposed of — per-
haps more. The public would be fairly warned of
the approach of danger, and elaborate measures
were being taken for the protection of the people in
the threatened south-western suburbs. And so, with
reiterated assurances of the safety of London, and
the confidence of the authorities to cope with the
difficulty, this quasi proclamation closed.

THIS was printed in enormous type, so fresh that
the paper was still wet, and there had been no
time to add a word of comment. It was curious, my
brother said, to see how ruthlessly the other eon-
tents of the paper had been hacked and taken out
to give this place.

All down Wellington Street, people coutd be seen
fluttering out the pink sheets and reading, and the
Strand wa3 suddenly noisy with the voices of an
army of hawkers following these pioneers. Men
came scrambling off buses to secure copies. Cer-
tainly this news excited people intensely, whatever
their previous apathy. The shutters of a map-shop
in the Strand were being taken down, my brother
said, and a man in his Sunday raiment, lemon-yel-
low gloves even, was visible inside the window, hast-
ily fastening maps of Surrey to the glass.

Going on along the Strand to Trafalgar Square,
the paper in hi3 hand, my brother saw some of the
fugitives from West Surrey. There was a man driv-
ing a cart such as greengrocers use, and his wife
and two boys and some articles of furniture. He
was driving from the direction of Westminster

446

AMAZING STORIES

Bridge, and close behind him came a hay wagon
with five or six respectable-looking people in it, and
some boxes and bundles. The faces of these people
were haggard, and their entire appearance con-
trasted conspicuously with the Sabbath-best ap-
pearance of the people on the omnibuses. People In
fashionable clothing peeped at them out of cabs.
They stopped at the Square as if undecided which
way to lake, and finally turned eastward along the
Strand. Some way after these came a man in work-
day clothes, riding one of those old-fashioned tri-
cycles with a small front-wheel. He was dirty and
white in the face.

My brother turned down towards Victoria, and met
a number of such people. He had a vague idea that
he might see something of me. He noticed an un-
usual number of police regulating the traffic. Some
of the refugees were exchanging news with the
people on the omnibuses. One was professing to
have seen the Martians. "Boilers on stilts, I tell
you, striding along like men." Most of them were
excited and animated by their strange experience.

Beyond Victoria the public-houses were doing a
lively trade with these arrivals. At all the street
corners groups of people were reading papers, talk-
ing- excitedly, or staring at these unusual Sunday
visitors. They seemed to increase as night drew on,
until at last the roads, my brother said, were like
the Epsom High Street on a Derby Day. My brother
addressed several of these fugitives and got unsatis-
factory answers from most.

None of them could tell him any news of Woking
except one man, who assured him that Woking had
been entirely destroyed on the previous night.

"I come from Byfleet," he said ; "a man on a bi-
cycle came through the place in the early morning,
and ran from door to door warning us to come away.
Then came soldiers. We went out to look, and there
were clouds of smoke to the south— nothing hut
smoke, and not a soul coming that way. Then we
heard the guns at Cbertsey, and folks coming from
Weybridge. So I've locked up my house and come
on."

At that time there was a strong feeling in the
streets that the authorities were to blame for their
incapacity to dispose of the invaders without all this
Inconvenience.

About eight o'clock, a noise of heavy firing was
distinctly audible all over the south of London. My
brother could not hear it for the traffic in the main
streets, but by striking through the quiet back-
streets to the river he was able to distinguish it
quite plainly.

He walked back from Westminster to his apart-
ments near Regent's Park about two. He was now
very anxious on my account, and disturbed at the
evident magnitude of the trouble. His mind was
inclined to run, even as mine had run on Saturday,
on military details. He thought of all those silent
oxpci-tant guns, of the suddenly nomadic country-
side; he tried to imagine "boilers on stilts" a hun-
dred feet high.

There were one or two cartloads of refugees pass-
ing along Oxford Street, and several in the Maryle-
bone Road, but so slowly was the news spreading
that Regent Street and Portland Road were full of
their usual Sunday night promenaders, albeit they

talked in groups, and along the edge of Regent'3
Park there were as many silent couples "walking
out" together under the scattered gas-lamps as ever
there had been. The night was warm and still, and
a little oppressive, the sound of guns continued in-
termittently, and after midnight there seemed to
be sheet lightning in the south.

He read and re-read the paper, fearing the worst
had happened to me. He was restless, and after
supper prowled out again aimlessly. He returned
and tried to divert his attention by his examination
notes in vain. He went to bed a little after mid-
night, and he was awakened out of some lurid
dreams in the small hours of Monday by the sound
of door-knockers, feet running in the street, distant
drumming, and a clamor of bells. Red reflections
danced on the ceiling. For a moment h<i lay aston-
ished, wondering whether day had come or the
world had gone mad. Then he jumped out of bed
and ran to the window.

His room was an attic, and as he thrust his head
out, up and down the street there were a dozen
echoes to the noise of his window-sash, and heads
in every kind of night disarray appeared. In-
quiries were being shouted. "They are coming!"
bawled a policeman, hammering at the door; "the
Martians are coming!" and hurried to the next
door.

The noise of drumming and trumpeting came
from the Albany Street Barracks, and every church
within earshot was hard at work killing sleep with
a vehement disorderly tocsin. There was a noise
of doors opening, and window after window in the
houses opposite flashed from darkness into yellow
illumination.

Up the street came galloping a closed carriage,
bursting abruptly into noise at the corner, rising
to a clattering climax under the window, and dying
away slowly in the distance. Close on the rear of
this came a couple of cabs, the forerunners of a
long procession of flying vehicles, going for the
most part to Chalk Farm Station, where the North-
western special trains were loading up, instead
of coming down the gradient into Euston.

T^OR a long time my brother stared out of the
A window in blank astonishment, watching the
policemen hammering at door after door, and de-
livering their incomprehensible message. Then the
door behind him opened, and the man who lodged
across the landing came in, dressed only in shirt,
trousers, and slippers, his braces loose about his
waist, his hair disordered from his pillow.

"What the devil is it?" he asked. "A fire? What
a devil of a row!"

They both craned their heads out of the window,
straining to hear what the policemen were shout-
ing. People were coming out of the side-streets,
and standing in groups at the corners talking.

"What the devil is it all about?" said my broth-
er's fellow-lodger.

My brother answered him vaguely and began to
dress, running with each garment to the window
in order to miss nothing of the growing excite-
ment of the streets. And presently men selling
unnaturally early newspapers came bawling into
the street:

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS

4-1-7

"London in danger of suffocation! The Kings-
ton and Richmond defences forced! Fearful
massacres in the Thames Valley !"

And ail about him — in the rooms below, in the
houses on either side and across the road, and
behind in the Park Terraces and in the hundred
other streets of that part of Marylebone, and the
Westbourne Park district and St. Pancras, and
westward and northward in Kilburn and St. John's
Wood and Hampstead, and eastward in Shoreditch
and Highbury and Haggerston and Hoxton, and
indeed, through all the vastness of London from
Ealing to East Ham — people were rubbing their
eyes, and opening windows to stare out and ask
aimless questions, and dressing hastily as the first
breath of the coming storm of Fear blew through
the streets. It was the dawn of the great panic.
London, which had gone to bed on Sunday night
stupid and inert, was awakened in the small hours
of Monday morning to a vivid sense of danger.

Unable from his window to learn what was hap-
pening, my brother went down and out into the
street, just as the sky between the parapets of
the houses grew pink with the early dawn. The
flying people on foot and in vehicles grew more
numerous every moment. "Black Smoke!" lie
heard people crying, and again "Black Smoke!"
The contagion of such a unanimous fear was in-
evitable. As my brother hesitated on the door-
step, he saw another newsvendor approaching him,
and got a copy forthwith. The man was running
away with the rest, and selling his papers as he
ran, for a shilling each — a grotesque mingling of
profit and panic.

And from this paper my brother read that catas-
trophic despatch of the Commander-in-Chief:

"The Martians are able to discharge enormous
clouds of a black and poisonous vapour by means
of rockets. They have smothered our batteries,
destroyed Richmond, Kingston, and Wimbledon,
and are advancing slowly towards London, destroy-
ing everything on the way. It is impossible to
stop them. There is no safety from the Black
Smoke but in instant flight."

That was all, but it was enough. The whole
population of the great six-million city was stir-
ring, slipping, running: presently it would be pour-
ing en masse northward.

"Black Smoke!" the voices cried. "Fire!"

The bells of the neighboring church made a
jangling tumult, a cart carelessly driven smashed
amidst shrieks and curses against the water-trough
up the street. Sickly yellow light went to and fro
in the houses, and some of the passing cabs flaunted
unextinguished lamps. And overhead the dawn
was growing brighter, clear and steady and calm.

He heard footsteps running to and fro in the
rooms, and up and down stairs behind him. His
landlady came to the door, loosely wrapped in dress-
ing-gown and shawl; her husband followed, ejacu-
lating.

A3 my brother began to realize the import of
all these things, he turned hastily to his own room,
put all his available money — some ten pounds alto-

gether — into his pockets, and went out again into
the streets.

CHAPTER XV
What Had Happened in Surrey

IT was while the curate had sat and talked so
wildly to me under the hedge in the flat
meadows near Halliford, and while my brother
was watching the fugitives stream over Westminster
Bridge, that the Martians had resumed the offen-
sive. So far as one can ascertain from the con-
flicting accounts that have been put forth, the
majority of them remained busied with prepara-
tions in the Horsell pit until nine that night, hurry-
ing on some operation that disengaged huge vol-
umes of green smoke.

But three certainly came out about eight o'clock
and, advancing slowly and cautiously, made their
way through Byfleet and Pyrford towards Ripley
and Weybridge, and so came in sight of the ex-
pectant batteries against the setting sun. These
Martians did not advance in a body, but in a line,
each perhaps a mile and a half from his nearest
fellow. They communicated with each other by
means of siren-like howls, running up and down
the scale from one note to another.

It was this howling and the firing of the guns
at Ripley and St. George's Hill that we had heard
at Upper Halliford. The Ripley gunners, unsea-
soned artillery volunteers who ought never to have
been placed in such a position, fired one wild, pre-
mature, ineffectual volley, and bolted on horse and
foot through the deserted village, and the Martian
walked over their guns serenely without using
his Heat-Ray, stepped gingerly among them, passed
in front of them, and so came unexpectedly upon
the guns in Painshill Park, which he destroyed.

The St. George's Hill men, however, were better
led or of a better mettle. Hidden by a pine-wood
as they were, they seem to have been quite unex-
pected by the Martian nearest to them. They laid
their guns as deliberately as if they had been on
parade, and fired at about a thousand yards' range.

The shells flashed all round the Martian, and
they saw him advance a few paces, stagger, and go
down. Everybody yelled together, and the guns
were reloaded in frantic haste. The overthrown
Martian set up a prolonged ululation, and imme-
diately a second glittering giant, answering him.
appeared over the trees to the south. It would
seem that a leg of the tripod had been smashed by
one of the shells. The whole of the second volley
flew wide of the Martian on the ground, and simul-
taneously both his companions brought their Heat-
Rays to bear on the battery. The ammunition
blew up. the pine-trees all about the guns flashed
into fire, and only one or two of the men who were
already running over the crest of the hill escaped.

After this it would seem that the three took
counsel together and halted, and the scouts who
were watching them report that they remained
absolutely stationary for the next half-hour. The
Martian who had been overthrown crawled tedi-
ously out of his hood, a small brown figure, oddly
suggestive from that distance of a speck of light,
and apparently engaged in the repair of his sup-

448

AMAZING STORIES

port. About nine he had finished, for his cowl
was then seen above the trees again.

It was a few minutes past nine that night when
these three sentinels were joined by four other
Martians, each carrying a thick black tube. A
similar tube was handed to each of the three, and
the seven proceeded to distribute themselves at
equal distances along a curved line between St.
George's Hill, Weybridge, and the village of Send,
south-west of Ripley.

A dozen rockets sprang out of the hills before
them so soon as they began to move, and warned
the waiting batteries about Ditton and Esher. At
*he same time four of their Fighting Machines,
imilarly armed with tubes, crossed the river, and
two of them, black against the western sky, came
into sight of myself and the curate as we hurried
wearily and painfully along the road that run3
northward out of Halliford. They moved, as it
seemed to us, upon a cloud, for a milky mist cov-
ered the fields and rose to a third of their height.

At this sight the curate cried faintly in his
throat, and began running; but I knew it was no
good running from a Martian, and I turned aside
and crawled through dewy nettles and brambles
into the broad ditch by the side of the road. He
looked back, saw what I was doing, and turned
to join me.

The two Martians halted, the nearer to us stand-
ing and facing Sunbury, the remoter being a gray
indistinctness towards the evening star, away to-
wards Staines.

THE occasional howling of the Martians had
ceased; they took up their positions in the
huge crescent about their cylinders in absolute
silence. It was a crescent with twelve miles be-
tween its horns. Never since the devising of gun-
powder was the beginning of a battle so still. To
us and to an observer about Ripley it would have
had precisely the same effect — the Martians seemed
in solitary possession of the darkling night, lit only
as it was by the slender moon, the stars, the after-
glow of the daylight, and the ruddy glare from St.
George's Hill and the woods of Painshill.

But facing that crescent everywhere, at Staines,
Hounslow, Ditton, Esher, Ockham, behind hills and
woods south of the river and across the flat grass
meadoWS to the north of it, wherever a cluster of
trees or village houses gave sufficient cover, the
guns were waiting. The signal rockets burst and
rained their sparks through the night and vanished,
and the spirit of all those watching batteries rose
to a tense expectation. The Martians had but to
advance into the line of fire, and instantly those
motionless black forms of men, those guns glitter-
ing so darkly in the early night, would explode into
a thunderous fury of battle.

No doubt the thought that was uppermost in a
thousand of those vigilant minds, even as it was
uppermost in mine, was the riddle how much they
understood of us. Did they grasp that we in our
millions were organized, disciplined, working to-
gether? Or did they interpret our spurts of fire,
the sudden stinging of our shells, our steady in-
vestment of their encampment, as we should the
furious unanimity of onslaught in a disturbed hive

of bees? Did they dream they might exterminate
us?- (At that time no one knew what food they
needed.) A hundred such questions struggled to-
gether in my mind as I watched that vast sentinel
shape. And in the back of my mind was the sense
of all the huge unknown and hidden forces London-
ward. Had they prepared pitfalls? Were the
powder-mills at Hounslow ready as a snare? Would
the Londoners have the heart and courage to make
a greater Moscow of their mighty province of
houses?

Then, after an interminable time as it seemed
to us, crouching and peering through the hedge,
came a sound like the distant concussion of a gun.
Another nearer, and then another. And then the
Martian beside us raised his tube on high and dis-
charged it gunwise, with a heavy report that made
the ground heave. The Martian towards Staines
answered him. There was no flash, no smoke,
simply that loaded detonation.

I was so excited by these heavy minute-guns fol-
lowing one another that I so far forgot my per-
sonal safety and my scalded hands as to clamber up
into the hedge and stare towards Sunbury. As I
did so a second report followed, and a big projectile
hurtled overhead towards Hounslow. I expected at
least to see smoke or fire or some such evidence
of its work. But all I saw was the deep-blue sky
above, with one solitary star, and the white mist
spreading wide and low beneath. And there had
been no crash, no answering explosion. The silence
was restored; the minute lengthened to three.

"What has happened?" said the curate, standing
up beside me.

"Heaven knows !" said I.

A bat flickered by and vanished. A distant tumult
of shouting began and ceased. I looked again at
the Martian, and saw he was now moving eastward
along the river-bank, with a swift rolling motion.

Every moment I expected the fire of some hidden
battery to spring upon him; but the evening calm
was unbroken. The figure of the Martian grew
smaller as he receded, and presently the mist and
the gathering night had swallowed him up. By a
common impulse we clambered higher. Towards
Sunbury was a dark appearance, as though a coni-
cal hill had suddenly come into being there, hiding
our view of the further country; and then, re-
moter across the river, over Walton, we saw an-
other such summit. These hill-like forms grew
lower and broader even as we stared.

Moved by a sudden thought, I looked northward,
and there I perceived a third of these cloudy black
kopjes had arisen.

Everything had suddenly become very still. Far
away to the south-east, marking the quiet, we
heard the Martians hooting to one another, and
then the air quivered again with the distant thud
of their guns. But the earthly artillery made no
reply.

Now, at the time we could not understand these '
things; but later I was to learn the meaning of
these ominous kopjes that gathered in the twilight.
Each of the Martians, standing in the great cres-
cent I have described, had discharged at some un-
known signal, by means of the gun-like tube he
carried, a huge canister over whatever hill, copse,

THE WAR OF THE WORLDS

449

cluster of houses, or other possible cover for guns,
chanced to be in front of him. Some fired only one
of these, some two, as in the ease of the one we
had seen; the one at Ripley is said to have dis-
charged no fewer than five at that time. These
canisters smashed on striking the ground—they did
not explode — and incontinently disengaged an
enormous volume of a heavy inky vapour, coiling
and pouring upwards in a huge and ebony cumulus
cloud, a gaseous hill that sank and spread itself
slowly over the surrounding country. And the
touch of that vapour, the inhaling of its pungent
wisps, was death to all that breathes.

It was heavy, this vapour, heavier than the
densest smoke, so that, after the first tumultuous
uprush and outflow of its impact, it sank down
through the air and poured over the ground in a
manner rather liquid than gaseous, abandoning
the hills, and streaming into the valleys and ditches
and water-courses, even as I have heard the car-
bonic acid gas that pours from volcanic clefts is
wont to do. And where it came upon water some
chemical action occurred, and the surface would be
instantly covered with a powdery scum that sank
slowly and made way for more. The scum was
absolutely insoluble, and it is a strange thing, see-
ing the instant effect of the gas, that one could
drink the water from which it had been strained
without hurt. The vapour did not diffuse as a true
gas would do. It hung together in banks, flowing
sluggishly down the slope of the land and driving
reluctantly before the wind, and very slowly it
combined with the mist and moisture of the air,
and sank to the earth in the form of dust. Save
that an unknown element giving a group of four
lines in the blue of the spectrum is concerned, we
are still entirely ignorant of the nature of this
substance.

Once the tumultuous upheaval of its dispersion
was over, the black smoke clung so closely to the
ground, even before its precipitation, that, fifty
feet up in the air, on the roofs and upper stories
of high houses and on great trees, there was a
ehanCe of escaping its poison altogether, as was
proved even that night at Street Cobham and
Ditton.

THE man who escaped at the former place tells
a wonderful story" of the strangeness of its
coiling flow, and how he looked down from the
church spire and saw the houses of the village
rising like ghosts out of its inky nothingness. For
a day and a half he remained there, weary, starv-
ing, and sun-scorched, the earth under the blue
sky and against the prospect of the distant hills
a velvet black expanse, with red roofs, green trees,
and, later, black-veiled shrubs and gates, barns,
outhouses, and walls, rising here and there into
the sunlight.

But that was at Street Cobham where the black
vapour was allowed to remain until it sank of its
own accord into the ground. As a rule, the Mar-
tians, when it had served its purpose, cleared the
air of it again by wading into it and directing a
jet of steam upon it.

That they did with the vapour-banks near us,
as we saw in the starlight from the window of a

deserted house at Upper Halliford, whither we had
returned. From there we could see the search-
lights on Richmond Hill and Kingston Hill going to
and fro, and about eleven the window rattled and
we heard the sound of the huge siege guns that
had been put in position there. These continued
intermittently for the space of a quarter of an
hour, sending chance shots at the invisible Mar-
tians at Hampton and Ditton, and then the pale
beams of the electric light vanished, and were
replaced by a bright red glow.

Then the fourth cylinder fell — a brilliant green
meteor — as I learnt afterwards, in Bushey Park.
Before the guns on the Richmond and Kingston
line of hills began, there was a fitful cannonade far
away in the south-west, due, I believe, to guns being
fired haphazard before the black vapour could over-
whelm the gunners.

So, setting about it as methodically as men might
smoke out a wasps' nest, the Martians spread this
strange stifling vapour over the Londonward coun-
try. The horns of the crescent slowly spread apart,
until at last they formed a line from Hanwell to
Coombe and Maiden. All night through their de-
structive tubes advanced. Never once, after the
Martian at St. George's Hill was brought down,
did they give the artillery the ghost of a chance
against them. Wherever there was a possibility of
guns being laid for them unseen, a fresh canister
of the black vapour was discharged, and where the
guns were openly displayed the Heat-Ray was
brought to bear.

By midnight the blazing trees along the slopes
of Richmond Park, and the glare of Kingston Hill,
threw their light upon a network of black smoke,
blotting out the whole Valley of the. Thames, and
^tending as far as the eye could reach. And
through this two Martians slowly waded, and
turned their hissing steam-jets this way and that.

The Martians were sparing of the Heat-Ray that
night, either because they had hut a limited supply
of material for its production, or because they did
not wish to destroy the country, but only to crush
and overawe the opposition they had aroused. In
the latter aim they certainly succeeded. Sunday
night was the end of the organized opposition to
their movements. After that no body of men could
stand against them, so hopeless was the enterprise.
Even the crews of the torpedo boats and destroyers
that had brought their quick-firers up the Thames
refused to stop, mutinied, and went down again.
The only offensive operation men ventured upon
after that night was the preparation of mines and
pit-falls, and even in that men's energies were
frantic and spasmodic.

One has to imagine the fate of those batteries
towards Esher, waiting so tensely in the twilight,
as well as one may. Survivors there were none.
One may picture the orderly expectation, the offi-
cers alert and watchful, the gunners ready, the
ammunition piled to hand, the limber gunners with
their horses and wagons, the groups of civilian
spectators standing as near as they were permitted,
the evening stillness; the ambulances and hospital
tents, with the burnt and wounded from Wey-
bridge; then the dull resonance of the shots the
Martians fired and the clumsy projectile whirling

410

AMAZING STORIES

over the trees and houses, and smashing amidst
the neighboring fields.

One may picture, too, the sudden shifting of
the attention, the swiftly spreading coils and
bellyings of that blackness advancing headlong,
towering heavenward, turning the twilight to a
palpable darkness, a strange and horrible antag-
onist of vapour striding upon its victims, men and
horses near it seen dimly, running, shrieking, fall-
ing headlong, shouts of dismay, the guns suddenly

abandoned, men choking and writhing on the

ground, and the swift broadening out of the opaque
cone of smoke. And then, night and extinction-
nothing but a silent mass of impenetrable vapour
hiding its dead.

Before dawn the black vapour was pouring
through the streets of Richmond, and the disinte-
grating organism of government was, with a last
expiring effort, rousing the population of London
to the necessity of flight.

End of part I

What Do You Know?

READERS of AMAZING STORIES have frequently commented upon the fact that there is more
actual knowledge to be gained through reading its pages than from many a textbook. Moreover, most
of the stories are written in a popular vein, making it possible for any one to grasp important facts.

The questions which we give below are all answered on the pages as listed at the end of the ques-
tions. Please see if you can answer the questions first without looking for the answer, and see how well
you check up on your general knowledge.

If you wish to see a questionnaire of this kind every month, do not fail to mark your reply on the
voting coupon which you will find elsewhere. If there is sufficient demand for the questionnaire we
will publish one every month.

i\ How far is Mars from the Sun? (page 423).

2. Is Mars supposed to be older than the Earth?
(page 423).

3. What is the closest we ever get to Mars? (page

423).

4. Would yoti weigh more or less upon the surface
of Mars than on Earth? (page 431).

5. What is the Spectrogram of a star? (page 461).

6. What dees the astronirtncr mean by good or bad
"seeing".' (page 461).

7. What power docs an astronomer use under good
conditions for planetary work? (page 461).

8. What is factorial calculation? (page 464).

9. What is the duodecimal system of notation?
(page 464).

If). When is a planet in opposition and when is it
nearest to the earth? (page 467).

1 1 . What do you know about the mountains of Mars ?
page 46S).

12. What do you know about a possible application
of relativity to age? (page 479).

13. Is there such a thine as old age biologically con-
sidered? (page 479).

14. Is an automatic dishwasher and dryer a possi-
bility? (page 493).

15. What should be done to a flesh wound as soon as
possible? (page 499).

lrt. What are haemostats? (pages 499 and 501).

17. When severed arteries and veins are tied up with
gut in surgical practice what becomes of the gut?
(page 499).

18. What is the atom? (page 503).

19. Is the atom smaller than the molecule? (pace
503),

20. What is the atom made of? What are its parts?
(page 503).

21. What do the outer circulatory electrons of the
atoms do? (page 503).

22. How big is an electron compared to the hydrogen

atom? (page 504).

23. Can the image of stars be gotten upon the photo-
graphic plate when the stars are too far away to
he seen? (page 504).

24. What is the speed of light? (page 504).

25. How could you separate crystalline molecules
from colloids? (page 504).

26. Taking organic poisons as colloids, how would
you keep them from entering the circulatory
system in the case of a flesh wound or amputa-
tion? (page 504).

27. What is strychnine, and what does it come from?
(page 510).

28. What valuable metal is present in sea-water'
(page 489).

29. What is the volume of the ocean? (page 492).

30. What must you remember in a parachute descent ?
(page 474).

Beginning with October

AROUND THE UNIVERSE

By RAY CUMMINGS

7he TISSUE-CULTURE KING

Till Julian Jiuxleii

Reprinted from the Yale Review"

: had been for three days engaged in
] crossing a swamp. At last we were out
: dry ground, winding up a gentle
I slope. Near the top the brush grew
I thicker. The look of a rampart grew
as we approached; it had the air of having been
deliberately planted by men. We did not wish to
have to hack our way through the spiky barricade,
so turned to the right along the front of the green
wall. After three or four hundred yards we came
on a clearing which led into the bush, narrowing
down to what seemed a
regular passage or track-
way. This made us a little
suspicious. However, I
thought we had better
make all the progress we
could, and so ordered the
caravan to turn into the
opening, myself taking
second place behind the
guide-
Suddenly the tracker
stopped with a guttural
exclamation. I looked, _
and there was one of the ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
great African toads, hopping with a certain ponder-
osity across the path. But it had a second head
growing upwards from its shoulders! I had never
seen anything like this before, and wanted to secure
such a remarkable monstrosity for our collections;

VHAT a

■what JuKm
famous E

While so )
real thotigi
does not ,

v</ far

but as I moved forward, the creature took a couple
of hops into the shelter of the prickly scrub.

We pushed on, and I became convinced that the
gap we were following was artificial. After a little,
a droning sound came to our ears, which we very
soon set down as that of a human voice. The party
was halted, and I crept forward with the guide.
Peeping through the last screen of brush we looked
down into a hollow and were immeasurably startled
at what we saw there. The voice proceeded from
an enormous negro man at least eight feet high,
the biggest man I had
ever seen outside a circus.
^--"/Hr/a// Wa9 Ba . ua *t' n Kt from

,„^,.-j.r. ..-i il„i .- t.'. time to time prostrating

the forepart of his body,
and reciting some prayer
or incantation. The object
of his devotion was be-
i"'("iK~r'-r Kill be achieved. f° re n * m 011 * ne ground;
izin,-. Stien-ce amd Invf.n- it was a small flat piece

$1,000 for an actual franf 0 f glass held On a little

r Hi'fvr hem claimed. ^ fust carved ebony stand. By

^'im:kr 7' "J /r" 'a'rfal'il'v n ' S s ^ e WaS a nUge s P enr -

together with a painted
^ — basket with a lid.

After a minute or so, the giant bowed down in
silence, then took up the ebony-and-glass object and
placed it in the basket. Then to my utter amaze-
ment he drew out a two-headed toad like the first

77:,,

f.7.-/-„f !:;.■.

I had s

, but in a cage of woven grass, placed it

451

452

AMAZING STORIES

on the ground, and proceeded to more genuflection
and ritual murmurings. As soon as this was over,
the toad was replaced, and the squatting giant tran-
quilly regarded the landscape.

Beyond the hollow or dell lay an undulating coun-
try, with clumps of bush. A sound in the middle
distance attracted attention; glimpses of color
moved through the scrub; and a party of three or
four dozen men were seen approaching, most of
them as gigantn? as our first acquaintance. All
marched in order, armed with great spears, and
wearing colored loin straps with a sort of sporran,
it seemed, in front. They were preceded by an in-
telligent-looking negro of ordinary stature armed
with a club, and accompanied by two figures more
remarkable than the giants. They were under-sized,
almost dwarfish, with huge heads, and enormously
fat and brawny both in face and body. They wore
bright yellow cloaks over their black shoulders.

At sight of them, our giant rose and stood stiffly
by the side of his basket. The party approached
and halted. Some order was given, a giant stepped
out from the ranks towards ours, picked up the
basket, handed it stiffly to the newcomer, and feli
into place in the little company. We were clearly
witnessing some regular routine of relieving guard,
and I was racking my brains to think what the
whole thing might signify — guards, giants, dwarfs,
toads — when to my dismay I heard an exclamation
at my shoulder.

It was one of those damned porters, a confounded
fellow who always liked to show his independence.
Bored with waiting, I suppose, he had self-impor-
tantly crept up to see what it was all about, and the
sudden sight of the company of giants had been too
much for his nerves. I made a signal to lie quiet,
but it was too late. The exclamation had been
heard; the leader gave a quick command, and the
giants rushed up and out in two groups to sur-
round us.

Violence and resistance were clearly out of the
question. With my heart in my mouth, but with
as much dignity as I could muster, I jumped up and
threw out my empty hands, at the same time telling
the tracker not to shoot. A dozen spears seemed
towering over me, hut none were launched; the
leader ran up the slope and gave a command. Two
giants came up and put my hands through their
arms. The tracker and the porter were herded in
front at the spear point. The other porters now
discovered there was something amiss, and began
to shout and run away, with half the spearmen
after them. We three were gently but firmly
marched down and across the hollow.

I understood nothing of the language, and called
to my tracker to try his hand. It turned out that
there was some dialect of which he had a little un-
derstanding, and we could learn nothing save the
fact that we were being taken to some superior
authority.

For two days we were marched through pleasant
park-like country, with villages at intervals. Every
now and then some new monstrosity in the shape of
a dwarf or an incredibly fat woman or a two-headed
animal would be visible, until I thought I had
stumbled on the original source of supply of circus
freaks.

The country at last began to slope gently down
to a pleasant river-valley ; and presently we neared
the capital. It turned out to be a really large town
for Africa, its mud walls of strangely impressive
architectural form, with their heavy, Elabby but-
tresses, and giants standing guard upon them. See-
ing us approach, they shouted, and a crowd poured
out of the nearest gate. My God, what a crowd ! I
was getting used to giants by this time, but here
was a regular Barnum and Bailey show; more semi-
dwarfs; others like them but more so — one could
not tell whether the creatures were precociously
mature children or horribly stunted adults; others
portentously fat, with arms like sooty legs of mut-
ton, and rolls and volutes of fat crisping out of
their steatopygous posteriors; still others preco-
ciously senile and wizened, others hateful and im-
becile in looks. Of course, there were plenty of
ordinary negroes too, hut enough of the extraordi-
nary to make one feel pretty queer. Soon after we
got inside, I suddenly noted something else which
appeared inexplicable — a telephone wire, with per-
fectly good insulators, running across from tree to
tree. A telephone- — in an unknown African town.
I gave it up.

BUT another surprise was in store for me. I saw
a figure pass across from one large building to
another — a figure unmistakably that of a white
man. In the first place, it was wearing white ducks
and sun helmet ; in the second, it had a pale face.

He turned at the sound of our cavalcade and
stood looking a moment; then walked towards us.
"Halloa!" I shouted. "Do you speak English?"
"Yes," he answered, "but keep quiet a moment,"
and began talking quickly to our leaders, who
treated him with the greatest deference. He
dropped back to me and spoke rapidly: "You are
to he taken into the council hall to be examined:
but I will see to it that no harm comes to you. This
is a forbidden land to strangers, and you must be
prepared to be held up for a time. You will be sent
down to see me in the temple buildings as soon as
the formalities are over, and I'll explain things.
They want a bit of explaining," he added with a dry
laugh. "By the way, my name is Hascombe, lately
research worker at Middlesex Hospital, now relig-
ious adviser to His Majesty King Mgobe." He
laughed again and pushed ahead. He was an inter-
esting figure — perhaps fifty years old, spare body,
thin face, with a small beard, and rather sunken,
hazel eyes. As for his expression, he looked cynical,
hut also as if he were interested in life.

By this time we were at the entrance to the hall.
Our giants formed up outside, with my men behind
them, and only I and the leader passed in. The ex-
amination was purely formal, and remarkable
chiefly for the ritual and solemnity which charac-
terized all the actions of the couple of dozen fine-
looking men in long robes who were our examiners.
My men were herded off to some compound. I was
escorted down to a little hut, furnished with some
attempt at European style, where I found Has-
combe.

As soon as we were alone I was after him with
my questions. "Now you can tell me. Where are
we? What is the meaning of all this circus busi-

THE TISSUE CULTURE KING

453

ness and this menagerie of monstrosities? And
how do you come here?" He cut me short. "It's
a long story, so let me save time by telling it my
own way."

I am not going to tell it as he told it; but will try
to give a more connected account, the result of
many later talks with him, and of my own observa-
tions.

Hascombe had been a medical student of great
promise; and after his degree had launched out into
research. He had first started on parasitic proto-
zoa, but had given that up in favor of tissue cul-
ture; from these he had gone off to cancer research,
and from that to a study of developmental phys-
iology. Later a big Commission on sleeping sick-
ness had been organized, and Hascombe, restless
and eager for travel, had pulled wires and got him-
self appointed as one of the scientific staff sent to
Africa. He was much impressed with the view that
wild game acted as a reservoir for the Trypanosoma
{/amhicnse. When he learned of the extensive mi-
grations of game, he saw here an important pos-
sible means of spreading the disease and asked leave
to go up country to investigate the whole problem.
When the Commission as a whole had finished its
work, he was allowed to stay in Africa with one
other white man and a company of porters to see
what he could discover. His white companion was
a laboratory technician, a taciturn non-commis-
sioned officer of science called Aggers.

There is no object in telling of their experiences
here. Suffice it that they lost their way and fell
into the hands of this same tribe. That was fifteen
years ago: and Aggers was now long dead— as the
result of a wound inflicted when he was caught,
after a couple of years, trying to escape.

On their capture, they too had been examined in
the council chamber, and Hascombe (who had in-
terested himself in a dilettante way in anthropology
as in most other subjects of scientific inquiry) was
much impressed by what he described as the ex-
ceedingly religious atmosphere. Everything was
done with an elaboration of ceremony; the chief
seemed more priest than king, and performed vari-
ous rites at intervals, and priests were busy at some
sort of altar the whole time. Among other things,
he noticed that one of their rites was connected
with blood. First the chief and then the councillors
were in turn requisitioned for a drop of vital fluid
pricked from their finger-tips, and the mixture, held
in a little vessel, was slowly evaporated over a flame.

Some of Hascombe's men spoke a dialect not un-
like that of their captors, and one was acting as
interpreter. Things did not look too favorable. The
country was a "holy place," it seemed, and the tribe
a "holy race." Other Africans who trespassed there,
if not killed, were enslaved, but for the most part
they let well alone, and did not trespass. White
men they had heard of, but never seen till now, and
the debate was what to do— to kill, let go, or en-
slave? To let them go was contrary to all their
principles: the holy place would be defiled if the
news of it were spread abroad. To enslave them —
yes; but what were they good for? and the Council
seemed to feel an instinctive dislike for these other-
colored creatures. Hascombe had an idea. He
turned to the interpreter. "Say this: 'You revere

the Blood. So do we white men; but we do more —
we can render visible the blood's hidden nature and
reality, and with permission I will show this great
magic' " He beckoned to the bearer who carried
his precious microscope, set it up, drew a drop of
blood from the tip of his finger with his knife, and
mounted it on a slide under a coverslip. The big-
wigs were obviously interested. They whispered to
each other. At length, "Show us," commanded the
chief.

HASCOMBE demonstrated his preparation with
greater interest than he had ever done to first-
year medical students in the old days. He explained
that the hlood was composed of little people of vari-
ous sorts, each with their own lives, and that to spy
upon them thus gave ua new powers over them.
The eiders were more or less impressed. At any
rate the sight of these thousands of corpuscles
where they could see nothing before made them
think, made them realize that the white man had
power which might make him a desirable servant.

They would not ask to see their own blood for
fear that the sight would put them into the power
of those who saw it. But they had blood drawn
from a slave. Hascombe asked too for a bird, and
was able to create a certain interest by showing
how different were the little people of its blood.

"Tell them," he said to the interpreter, "that I
have many other powers and magics which I will
show them if they will give me time."

The long and short of it was that he and his
party were spared— He said he knew then what one
felt when the magistrate said: "remanded for a
week."

He had been attracted by one of the elder states-
men of the tribe — a tall, powerful-looking man of
middle-age; and was agreeably surprised when this
man came round next day to see him. Hascombe
later nicknamed him the Prince-Bishop, for his com-
bination of the qualities of the statesman and the
ecclesiastic: his real name was Bugala. He was as
anxious to discover more about Hascombe's myste-
rious powers and resources as Hascombe was to
learn what he could of the people into whose hands
he had fallen, and they met almost every evening
and talked far into the night.

Bugala's inquiries were as little prompted as
Hascombe's by a purely academic euriosity. Im-
pressed himself by the microscope, and still more by
the effect which it had had on his colleagues, he was
anxious to find out whether by utilizing the powers
of the white man he could not secure his own ad-
vancement. At length, they struck a bargain. Bu-
gala would see to it that no harm befell Hascombe.
But Hascombe must put his resources and powers
at the disposal of the Council ; and Bugala would
take good care to arrange matters so that he him-
self benefited. So far as Hascombe could make out,
Bugala imagined a radical change in the national
religion, a sort of reformation based on Hascombe's
conjuring tricks; and that he would emerge as the
High Priest of this changed system.

Hascombe had a sense of humor, and it was
tickled. It seemed pretty clear that they could not
escape, at least for the present. That being so, why
not take the opportunity of doing a little research

4*4

AMAZING STORIES

work at state expense — an opportunity which he
and his like were always clamoring for at home?
His thoughts began to run away with him. He
would find out all he could of the rites and super-
stitions of the tribe. He would, by the aid of his
knowledge and his scientific skill, exalt the details
of these rites, the expression of those superstitions,
the whole physical side of their religiosity, on to a
new level which should to them appear truly miracu-
lous. *

It would not be worth my troubling to tell all the
negotiations, the false starts, the misunderstand-
ings. In the end he secured what he wanted — a
building which could be used as a laboratory; an
unlimited supply of slaves for the lower and priests
for the higher duties of laboratory assistants, and
the promise that when his scientific stores were ex-
hausted they would do their best to secure others
from the coast— a promise w-iich was scrupulously
kept, so that he never went short for lack of what
money could buy.

He next applied himself diligently to a study of
their religion and found that it was built round
various main motifs. Of these, the central one was
the belief in the divinity and tremendous impor-
tance of the Priest-King. The second was a form
of ancestor-worship. The third was an animal cult,
in particular of the more grotesque species of the
African fauna. The fourth was sex, con variazioni.
Hascombe reflected on these facts. Tissue culture;
experimental embryology; endocrine treatment; ar-
tificial parthenogenesis. He laughed and said to
himself: "Well, at least I can try, and it ought to
be amusing."

THAT was how it all started. Pehaps the best
way of giving some idea of how it had devel-
oped will be for me to tell my own impressions when
Hascombe took me round his laboratories. One
whole quarter of the town was devoted entirely to
religion — it struck me as excessive, but Hascombe
reminded me that Tibet spends one-fifth of its rev-
enues on melted butter to burn before its shrines.
Facing the main square was the chief temple, built
impressively enough of solid mud. On either side
were the apartments where dwelt the servants of
the gods and administrators of the sacred rites.
Behind were Hascombe's laboratories, some built of
mud, others, under his later guidance, of wood.
They were guarded night and day by patroU of
giants, and were arranged in a series of quad-
rangles. Within one quadrangle 'was a pool which
served as an aquarium; in another, aviaries and
great hen-houses; in yet another, cages with vari-
ous animals; in the fourth a little botanic garden.
Behind were stables with dozens of cattle and sheep,
and a sort of experimental ward for human beings.

He took me into the nearest of the buildings.
"This," he said, "is known to the people as the Fac-
tory (it is difficult to give the exact sense of the
word, but it literally means producing-place), the
Factory of Kingship or Majesty, and the Wellspring
of Ancestral Immortality." I looked round, and saw
platoons of buxom and shining African women, be-
comingly but unusually dressed in tight-fitting
white dresses and caps, and wearing rubber gloves.
Microscopes were much in evidence, as also various

receptacles from which steam was emerging. The
back of the room was screened off by a wooden
screen in which were a series of glass doors; and
these doors opened into partitions, each labelled
with a name in that unknown tongue, and each con-
taining a number of objects like the one I had seen
taken out of the basket by the giant before we were
captured. Pipes surrounded this chamber, and ap-
peared to be distributing heat from a fire in one

"Factory of Majesty!" I exclaimed. "Wellspring
of Immortality! What the dickens do you mean?"

"If you prefer a more prosaic name," said Has-
combe, "I should call this the Institute of Religious
Tissue Culture." My mind went back to a day in
1918 when I had been taken by a biological friend in
New York to see the famous Rockefeller Institute;
and at the word tissue culture I saw again before
me Dr. Alexis Carrell and troops of white-garbed
American girls making cultures, sterilizing, micro-
scopizing, incubating and the rest of it. The Has-
combe Institute was, it is true, not so well equipped,
but it had an even larger, if differently colored, per-
sonnel.

Hascombe began his explanations. "As you prob-
ably know, Frazer's 'Golden Bough'* introduced us
to the idea of a sacred priest-king, and showed how
fundamental it was in primitive societies. The wel-
fare of the tribe is regarded as inextricably bound
up with that of the King, and extraordinary pre-
cautions are taken to preserve him from harm. In
this kingdom, in the old days, the King was hardly
allowed to set bis foot to the ground in case he
should lose divinity; his cut hair and na!l~paring3
were entrusted to one of the most important officials
of state, whose duty it was to bury them secretly, in
case some enemy should compass the King's illness
or death by using them in black magic rites. If
anyone of base blood trod on the King's shadow, he
paid the penalty with his life. Each year a slave
was made mock-king for a week, allowed to enjoy
all the king's privileges, and was decapitated at the
close of his brief glory; and by this means it was
supposed that the illnesses and misfortunes that
might befall the King were vicariously got rid of.

"I first of all rigged up my apparatus, and with
the aid of Aggers, succeeded in getting good cul-
tures, first of chick tissues and later, by the aid of
embryo-extract, of various adult mammalian tissues.
I then went to Bugala, and told him that I could
increase the safety, if not of the King as an indi-
vidual, at least of the life which was in him, and
that I presumed that this would be equally satisfac-
tory from a theological point of view. I pointed
out that if he chose to be made guardian of the
King's subsidiary lives, he would be in a much more
important position than the chamberlain or the
burier of the sacred nail-parings, and might make
the post the most influential in the realm.

"Eventually I was allowed (under threats of death
if anything untoward occurred) to remove small
portions of His Majesty's subcutaneous connective
tissue under a local anaesthetic. In the presence of
the assembled nobility I put fragments of this into

*A very flabor.ilp EreafiM mi a division of Roman mythol-
ogy, especially on the cult of Diana.

THE TISSUE-CULTURE KING

455

culture medium, and showed it them under the mi-
croscope. The cultures were then put away in the
incubator, under a guard — relieved every eight
hours — of half a dozen warriors. After three days,
to my joy they had all taken and showed abundant
growth. I could see that the Council was impressed,
and reeled off a magnificent speech, pointing out
that this growth constituted an actual increase in
the quantity of the divine principle inherent in roy-
alty; and, what was more, that I could increase it
indefinitely. With that I cut each of my cultures
into eight, and sub-cultured all the pieces. They
were again put under guard, and again examined
after three days. Not all of them had taken this
time, and there were some murmurings and angry
looks, on the ground that I had killed some of the
King; but I pointed out that the King was still the
King, that his little wound had completely healed,
and that any successful cultures represented so
much extra sacredness and protection to the state.
I must say that they were very reasonable, and had
good theological acumen, for they at once took the
hint.

"I pointed out to Bugala, and he persuaded the
rest without much difficulty, that they could now
disregard some of the older implications of the doc-
trines of kingship. The most important new idea
which I was able to introduce was moss-prodvetimK
Our aim was to multiply the King's tissues indefi-
nitely, to ensure that some of their protecting
power should reside everywhere in the country.
Thus by concentrating upon quantity, we could
afford to remove some of the restrictions upon the
King's mode of life. This was of course agreeable
to the King; and also to Bugala, who saw himself
wielding undreamt-of power. One might have sup-
posed that such an innovation would have met with
great resistance simply on account of its being an
innovation; but I must admit that these people com-
pared very favorably with the average business
man in their lack of prejudice.

"Having thus settled the principle, I had many
debates with Bugala as to the best methods for en-
listing the mass of the population in our scheme.
What an opportunity for scientific advertising!
But, un fortunately, the population could not read.
However, war propaganda worked very well in more
or less illiterate countries — why not here?"

HASCOMBE organized a series of public lectures
in the capital, at which he demonstrated his
regal tissues to the multitude, who were bidden to
the place by royal heralds. An impressive platform
group was always supplied from the ranks of the
nobles. The lecturer explained how important it
was for fhe community to become possessed of
greater and greater stores of the sacred tissues.
Unfortunately, the preparation was laborious and
expensive, and it behooved them all to lend a hand.
It had accordingly been arranged that to everyone
subscribing a cow or buffalo, or its equivalent —
three goats, pigs, or sheep — a portion of the royal
anatomy should be given, handsomely mounted in
an ebony holder. Sub-culturing would be done at
certain hours and days, and it would be obligatory
to send the cultures for renewal. If through any

negligence the tissue died, no renewal would be
made. The subscription entitled the receiver to
sub-culturing rights for a year, but was of course
renewable. By this means not only would the to-
tality of the King be much increased, to the benefit
of all, but each cultureholder would possess an ac-
tual part of His Majesty, and would have the infi
nite joy and privilege of aiding by his own efforts
the multiplication of divinity.

Then they could also serve their country by dedi-
cating a daughter to the state. These young women
would be housed and fed by the state, and taught
the technique of the sacred culture. Candidates
would be selected according to general fitness, but
would of course, in addition, be required to attain
distinction in an examination on the principles of
religion. They would be appointed for a proba-
tionary period of six monthB. After this they would
receive a permanent status, with the title of Sisters
of the Sacred Tissue. From this, with age, expe-
rience, and merit, they could expect promotion to
the rank of mothers, grandmothers, great grand-
mothers, and grand ancestresses of the same. The
merit and benefit they would receive froni their
close contact with the source of all benefits would
overflow on to their families.

The scheme worked like wildfire. Pigs, goats,
cattle, buffaloes, and negro maidens poured in. Next
year the scheme was extended to the whole country,
a peripatetic laboratory making the rounds weekly.

By the close of the third year there was hardly a
family in the country which did not possess at least
one sacred culture. To be without one would have
been like being without one's trousers — or at least
without one's hat* — on Fifth Avenue. Thus did
Bugala effect a reformation in the national religion,
enthrone himself as the most important personage
in the country, and entrench applied science and
Hascombe firmly in the organization of the state.

Encouraged by his success, Hascombe soon set
out to capture the ancestry. worship branch of the
religion as well. A public proclamation was made
pointing out how much more satisfactory it would
be if worship could be made not merely to the
charred bones of one's forbears, but to bits of them
still actually living and growing. All who were
desirous of profiting by the enterprise of Bugala's
Department of State should therefore bring their
older relatives to the laboratory at certain specified
hours, and fragments would be painlessly extracted
for culture.

This, too, proved very attractive to the average
citizen. Occasionally, It is true, grandfathers or
aged mothers arrived In a state of indignation and
protest. However, this did not matter, since, ac-
cording to the law, once children were twenty-five
years of age, they were not only assigned the duty
of worshipping their ancestors, alive or dead, but
were also given complete control over them, in order
that all rites might be duly performed to the greater
safety of the commonweal. Further, the ancestors
soon found that the operation itself was trifling,
and. what was more, that once accomplished, it had
the most desirable results. For their descendants
preferred to concentrate at once upon the culture

•This was written before the year 1927.

AMAZING STORIES

which they would continue to worship after the old
folks were- gone, and so left their parents and grand-
parents much freer than before from the irksome
restrictions which in all ages have beset the offi-
cially holy.

Thus, by almost every hearth in the kingdom, in-
stead of the old-fashioned rows of red jars contain-
ing the incinerated remains of one or other of the
family forhcars, the new generation saw growing
up a collection of family slides. Each would be
taken out and reverently examined at the hour of
prayer. "Grandpapa is not growing well this wesk,"
you would perhaps hear the young black devotee
say; the father of the family would pray over the
speck of tissue; and if that failed, it would be taken
back to the factory for rejuvenation. On the other
hand, what rejoicing when a rhythm of activity
stirred in the cultures! A spurt on the part of
great-grandmother's tissues would hring her wrin-
kled old smile to mind again; and sometimes it
seemed as if one particular generation were all
stirred simultaneously by a pulse of growth, as if
combining to bless their devout descendants.

To deal with the possibility of cultures dying out,
Hascombe started a central storehouse, where dupli-
cates of every strain were kept, and it was this re-
pository of the national tissues which had attracted
my attention at the back of the laboratory. No such
collection had ever existed before, he assured me.
Not a necropolis, but a histopolis, if I may coin a
word ; not a cemetery, but a place of eternal growth.

THE second huilding was devoted to endocrine
products — an African Armour's — and was call-
ed by the people the "Factory of Ministers to the
Shrines."

"Here," he said, "you will not find much new.
You know the craze for 'glands' that was going on
at home years ago, and its results, in the shape of
pluriglandular preparations, a new genre of patent
medicines, and a popular literature that threatened
to outdo the Freudians, and explain human beings
entirely on the basis of glandular make-up, without
reference to the mind at all.

"I had only to apply my knowledge in a compara-
tively simple manner. The first thing was to show
Bugala how, by repeated injections of pre -pituitary,
I could make an ordinary baby grow up into a giant.
This pleased him, and he introduced the idea of a
sacred bodyguard, all of really gigantic stature,
quite overshadowing Frederick's Grenadiers.

"I did, however, extend knowledge in several di-
rections. I took advantage of the fact that their
religion holds in reverence monstrous and imbecile
forms of human beings. That is, of course, a com-
mon phenomenon in many countries, where half-
wits are supposed to be inspired, and dwarfs the
object of superstitious awe. So I went to work to
create various new types. By employing a particu-
lar extract of adrenal cortex, I produced children
who would have been a match for the Infant Hercu-
les, and, indeed, looked rather like a cross between
him and a brewer's drayman. By injecting the same
extract into adolescent girls I was able to provide
them with the most copious mustaches, after which
they found ready employment as prophetesses.

"Tampering with the post- pituitary gave remark-
able cases of obesity. This, together with the pas-
sion of the men for fatness in their women, Bugala
took advantage of, and I believe made quite a for-
tune by selling as concubines female slaves treated
in this way. Finally, by another pituitary treat-
ment, I at last mastered the secret of true dwarfism,
in which perfect proportions are retained.

"Of these productions, the dwarfs are retained as
acolytes in the temple; a band of the obese young
ladies form a sort of Society of Vestal Virgins, with
special religious duties, which, as the embodiment
of the national ideal of beauty, they are supposed
to discharge with peculiarly propitious effect; and
the giants form our Regular Army.

"The Obese Virgins have set me a prohlem which
I confess I have not yet solved. Like all races who
set great store by sexual enjoyment, these people
have a correspondingly exaggerated reverence for
virginity. It therefore occurred to me that if I
could apply Jacques Loeb's great discovery of arti-
ficial parthenogenesis to man, or, to be precise, to
these young ladies, I should be able to grow a race
of vestals, self-reproducing yet ever virgin, to whom
in concentrated form should attach that reverence
of which I have just spoken. You see, I must al-
ways remember that it is no good proposing any
line of work that will not benefit the national relig-
ion. I suppose state-aided research would have
much the same kinds of difficulties in a really demo-
cratic state. Well this, as I say, has so far beaten
me. I have taken the matter a step further than
Bataillon with his fatherless frogs, and have in-
duced parthenogenesis in the eggs of reptiles and
birds; but so far I have failed with mammals. How-
ever, I've not given up yet!"

Then we passed to the next laboratory, which was
full of the most incredible animal monstrosities.
"This laboratory is the most amusing," said Has-
combe. "Its official title is 'Home of the Living
Fetishes.' Here again I have simply taken a preva-
lent trait of the populace, and used it as a peg on
which to hang research. I told you that, they al-
ways had a fancy for the grotesque in animals, and
used the most bizarre forms, in the shape of little
clay or ivory statuettes, for fetishes.

"I thought I would see whether art could not im-
prove upon nature, and set myself to recall my ex-
perimental embryology. I use only the simplest
methods. I utilize the plasticity of the earliest
stages to give double-headed and cyclopean mon-
sters. That was, of course, done years ago in newts
by Spemann and fish by Stockard; and I have
merely applied the mass-production methods of Mr.
Ford to their results. But my specialties are three-
headed snakes, and toads with an extra heaven-
pointing head. The former are a little difficult,
but there is a great demand for them, and they
fetch a good price. The frogs are easier: I simply
apply Harrison's methods to embryo tadpoles."

He then showed me into the last building. Un-
like the others, this contained no signs of research
in progress, but was empty. It was draped with
black hangings, and lit only from the top. In the
centre were rows of ebony benches, and in front of
them a glittering golden ball on a stand.

THE TISSUE-CULTURE KING

457

"Here I am beginning my work on reinforced
telepathy," he told me. "Some day you must come
and see what it's all about, for it really is inter-
esting."

You may imagine that I waa pretty well flabber-
gasted by this catalogue of miracles. Every day I
got a talk with Hascombe, and gradually the talks
became recognized events of our daily routine. One
day I asked if he had given up hope of escaping.
He showed a queer hesitation in replying. Eventu-
ally he said, "To tell you the truth, my dear Jones,
I have really hardly thought of it these last few
years. It seemed so impossible at first that I delib-
erately put it out of my head and turned with more
and more energy, I might almost aay fury, to my
work. And now, upon my soul, I am not quite sure
whether I want to escape or not."

"Not want to!" I exclaimed; "surely you can't
mean that!"

"I am not so sure," he rejoined. "What I most
want is to get ahead with this work of mine. Why,
man, you don't realize what a chance I've got! And
it is all growing so fast — I can see every kind of
possibility ahead"; and he broke off into silence.

However, although I was interested enough in hi3
past achievements, I did not feel witling to sacrifice
my future to his perverted intellectual ambitions.
But he would not leave his work.

THE experiments which most excited his imagi-
nation were those he was conducting into mass
telepathy. He had received his medical training
at a time when abnormal psychology was still very
unfashionable in England, but had luckily been
thrown in contact with a young doctor who was a
keen student of hypnotism, through whom he had
been introduced to some of the great pioneers, like
Bramwell and Wingfield. As a result, he had be-
come a passable hypnotist himself, with a fair
knowledge of the literature.

In the early days of his captivity he became inter-
ested in the sacred dances which took place every
night of full moon, and were regarded as propitia-
tions of the celestial powers. The dancers all be-
long to a special sect. After a series of exciting
figures, symbolizing various activities of the chase,
war, and love, the leader conducts his band to a
ceremonial bench. He then begins to make passes
at them; and what impressed Hascombe was this,
that a few seconds sufficed for them to fall back in
deep hypnosis against the ebony rail. It recalled,
he said, the most startling cases of collective hyp-
nosis recorded by the French scientists. The leader
next passed from one end of the beneh to the other,
whispering a brief sentence into each ear. He then,
according to immemorial rite, approached the
Priest-King, and, after having exclaimed aloud
"Lord of Majesty, command what thou wilt for thy
dancers to perform," the King would thereupon
command some action which had previously been
kept secret. The command was often to fetch some
object and deposit at the moon-shrine; or to fight
the enemies of the state; or (and thi3 was what the
company most liked) to be some animal, or bird.
Whatever the command, the hypnotized men would
obey it, for the leader's whispered words had been
an order to hear and carry out only what the King

said; and the strangest scenes would be witnessed
as they ran, completely oblivious of all in their
path, in search of the gourds or sheep they had been
called on to procure, or lunged in a symbolic way at
invisible enemies, or threw themselves on all fours
and roared as lions, or galloped as zebras, or danced
as cranes. The command executed, they stood like
stocks or stones, until their leader, running from
one to the other, touched each with a finger and
shouted "Wake." They woke, and limp, but con-
scious of having been the vessels of the unknown
spirit, danced back to their special hut or club-
house.

This susceptibility to hypnotic suggestion struck
Haseombe, and he obtained permission to test the
performers more closely. He soon established that
the people were, as a race, extremely prone to dis-
sociation, and could be made to lapse into deep hyp-
nosis with great ease, but a hypnosis in which the
subconscious, though completely cut off from the
waking self, comprised portions of the personality
not retained in the hypnotic selves of Europeans.
Like most who have fluttered round the psychologi-
cal candle, he had been interested in the notion of
telepathy; and now, with this supply of hypnotic
subjects under his hands, began some real investi-
gation of the problem.

By picking his subjects, he was soon able to dem-
onstrate the existence of telepathy, by making sug-
gestions to one hypnotized man who transferred
them without physical intermediation to another at
a distance. Later — and this was the culmination of
his work — he found that when he made a suggestion
to several subjects at once, the telepathic effect was
much stronger than if he had done it to one at a
time — the hypnotized minds were reinforcing each
other. "I'm after the super-consciousness," Has-
combe said, "and I've already got the rudiments
of it"

I must confess that I got almost as excited as
Hascombe over the possibilities thus opened up. It
certainly seemed as if he' were right in principle.
If all the subjects were in practically the same
psychological state, extraordinary reinforcing ef-
fects were observed. At first the attainment of
this similarity of condition was very difficult; grad-
ually, however, we discovered that it was possible
to tune hypnotic subjects to the same pitch, if I
may use the metaphor, and then the fun really
began.

First of all we found that with increasing rein-
forcement, we could get telepathy conducted to
greater and greater distances, until finally we could
transmit commands from the capital to the national
boundary, nearly a hundred miles. We next found
that it was not necessary for the subject to be in
hypnosis to receive the telepathic command. Almost
everybody, but especially those of equable tempera-
ment, could thu3 be influenced. Most extraordinary
of all, however, were what we at first christened
"near effects," since their transmission to a distance
was not found possible until later. If, after Has-
eombe had suggested some simple command to a
largish group of hypnotized subjects, he or I went
right up among them, we would experience the most
extraordinary sensation, as of some superhuman
personality repeating the command in a menacing

458

AMAZING STORIES

and overwhelming: way and, whereas with one part
of ourselves We felt that we mu3t carry out the
command, with another we felt, if I may say so, as
if we were only a part of the command, or of some-
thing much bigger than ourselves which was com-
manding. And this, Haseombe claimed, was the
first real beginning of the super-consciousness,

Bugala, of course, had to be considered. Has-
eombe, with the old Tibetan prayer-wheel at the
back of his mind, suggested that eventually he
would be able to induce hypnosis in the whole pop-
ulation, and then transmit a prayer. This would
ensure that the daily prayer, for instance, was
really said by the whole population, and, what is
more, simultaneously, which would undoubtedly
much enhance its efficacy. And it would make it pos-
sible in times of calamity or battle to keep the
whole praying force of the nation at work for long
spells together.

BUGALA was deeply interested. He saw himself,
through this mental machinery, planting such
ideas as he wished in the brain-cases of his people.
He saw himself willing an order; and the whole
population rousing itself out of trance to execute it.
He dreamt dreams before which those of the pro-
prietor of a newspaper syndicate, even those of a
director of propaganda in wartime, would be pale
and timid. Naturally, he wished to receive per-
sonal instruction in the methods himself; and,
equally naturally, we could not refuse him, though
I must say that I often felt a little uneasy as to
what he might choose to do if he ever decided to
override Haseombe and to start experimenting on
his own. This, combined with my constant long-
ing to get away from the place, led me to cast about
again for means of escape. Then it occurred to me
that this very method about which I had such
gloomy presentiments, might itself be made the
key to our prison.

So one day, after getting Haseombe worked up
about the loss to humanity it would be to let this
great discovery die with him in Africa, I set to in
earnest. "My dear Haseombe," I said, " you must
get home out of this. What is there to prevent you
saying to Bugala that your experiments are nearly
crowned with success, but that for certain tests you
must have a much greater number of subjects at
your disposal? You can then get a battery of two
hundred men, and after you have tuned them, the
reinforcement will be so great that you will have
at your disposal a mental force big enough to affect
the whole population. Then, of course, one fine day
we should raise the potential of our mind-battery to
the highest possible level, and send out through it
a general hypnotic influence. The whole country,
men, women, and children, would sink into stupor.
Next we should give our experimental squad the
suggestion to broadcast 'sleep for a week.' The tele-
pathic message would be relayed to each of the thou-
sands of minds waiting receptively for it, and would
take root in them, until the whole nation became a
single super-consciousness, conscious only of the
one thought 'sleep' which we had thrown into it."

The reader will perhaps ask how we ourselves
expected to escape from the clutches of the super-
consciousness we had created. Well, we had dis-

covered that metal was relatively impervious to the
telepathic effect, and had prepared for ourselves a
sort of tin pulpit, behind which we could stand while
conducting experiments. This, combined with caps
of metal foil, enormously reduced the effects on our-
selves. We had not informed Bugala of this prop-
erty of metal.

Haseombe was silent. At length he spoke. "I
like the idea, he said; "I like to think that if I ever
do get back to England and to scientific recognition,
my discovery will have given me the means of
escape."

From that moment we worked assiduously to per-
fect our method and our plans. After about five
months everything seemed propitious. We had pro-
visions packed away, and compasses. I had been al-
lowed to keep my rifle, on promise that I would
never discharge it. We had made friends with some
of the men who went trading to the coast, and had
got from them all the information we could about
the route, without arousing their suspicions.

At last, the night arrived. We assembled our
men as if for an ordinary practice, and after hyp-
nosis had been induced, started to tune them. At
this moment Bugala came in, unannounced. This
was what we had been afraid of; but there had been
no means of preventing it. "What shall we do?" I
whispered to Haseombe, in English. "Go right
ahead and be damned to it," was his answer; "we
can put him to sleep with the rest."

So we welcomed him, and gave him a seat as near
as possible to the tightly-paeked ranks of the per-
'formers. At length the preparations were finished..
Haseombe went into the pulpit and said, "Attention
to the words which are to be suggested." There
was a slight stiffening of the bodies. "Sleep !" said
Haseombe. "Sleep is the command: command all
in this land to sleep unbrokenly." Bugala leapt up
with an exclamation ; but the induction had already
begun.

We with our metal coverings were immune. But
Bugala was struck by the full force of the mental
current. He sank back on his chair, helpless. For
a few minutes his extraordinary will resisted the
suggestion. Although he could not move, his angry
eyes were open. But at length he succumbed, and
he too slept.

We lost no time in starting, and made good prog-
ress through the silent country. The people were
sitting about like wax figures. Women sat asleep
by their milk-pails, the cow by this time far away.
Fat-bellied naked children slept at their games. The
houses were full of sleepers sleeping upright round
their food, recalling Wordsworth's famous "party
in a parlor."

So we went on, feeling pretty queer and scarcely
believing in this morphic state into which we had
plunged a nation. Finally the frontier was reached,
where with extreme elation, we passed an immobile
and gigantic frontier guard. A few miles further
we had a good solid meal, and a doze. Our kit was
rather heavy, and we decided to jettison some super-
fluous weight, in the shape of some food, specimens,
and our metal headgear, or mind-protectors, which
at this distance, and with the hypnosis wearing a
little thin, were, we thought, no longer necessary.

THE TISSUE-CULTURE KING

459

About nightfall on the third day, Haseombe sud-
denly stopped and turned his head.

"What's the matter?" I said, "Have you seen a
Hon?" Hia reply was completely unexpected. "No.
I was just wondering whether really I ought not to
go back again."

"Go back again," I cried. "What in the name of
God Almighty do you want to do that for?"

"It suddenly struck me that I ought to," he said,
"about five minutes ago. And really, when one
conies to think of it, I don't suppose I shall ever
get such a chance at research again. What's more,
this is a dangerous journey to the coast, and I don't
expect we shall get through alive."

I was thoroughly upset and put out, and told him
so. And suddenly, for a few moments, I felt I must
I go back too. It was like that old friend of our boy-
hood, the voice of conscience.

"Yes, to be sure, we ought to go back," I thought
with fervor. But suddenly cheeking myself as the
thought came under the play of reason — "Why
should we go back?" All sorts of reasons were
proffered, as it were by unseen hands reaching up
out of the hidden parts of me.

AND then I realized what had happened. Bugala
had waked up; he had wiped out the suggestion
we had given to the super-consciousness, and in its
place put in another. I could see him thinking it
out, the cunning devil (one must give him credit
for brains !) , and hear him, after making his passes,
whisper to the nation in prescribed form his new
suggestion: "Will to return!" "Return!" For most
of the inhabitants the command would have no
meaning, for they would have been already at home.
Doubtless some young men out on the hills, or
truant children, or girls run off in secret to meet
their lovers, were even now returning, stiffly and in
somnambulistic trance, to their homes. It was only
for them that the new command of the super-con-
sciousness had any meaning— and for us.

I am putting it in a long and discursive way; at
the moment I simply saw what had happened in a
flash. I told Haseombe, I showed him it must be so,
that nothing else would account for the sudden
change, I begged and implored him to use his rea-
son, to stick to his decision and to come on. How
I regretted that, in our desire to discard all useless
weight, we had left behind our metal telepathy-
proof head coverings!

But Haseombe would not, or could not, see my
point. I suppose he was much more imbued with
all the feelings and spirit of the country, and so
more susceptible. However that may be, he was

immovable. He must go back; he knew it; he saw
it clearly; it was his sacred duty; and much other
similar rubbish. All this time the suggestion was
attacking me too; and finally I felt that if I did not
put more distance between me and that unisonic
battery of will, I. should succumb as well as he.

"Haseombe," I said, "I am going on. For God's
sake, come with me." And I shouldered my pack,
and set off. He was shaken, I saw, and came a few
steps after me. But finally he turned, and, in spite
of my frequent pauses and shouts to him to follow
made off in the direction we had come. I can assure
you that it was with a gloomy soul that I continued
my solitary way. I shall not bore you with my ad-
ventures. Suffice it to say that at last I got to a
white outpost, weak with fatigue and poor food and
fever.

I kept very quiet about my adventures, only giv-
ing out that our expedition had lost its way and
that my men had run away or been killed by the
local tribes. At last I reached England. But I was
a broken man, and a profound gloom had invaded
my mind at the thought of Haseombe and the way
he had been caught in his own net. I never found
out what happened to him, and I do not suppose that
I am likely to find out now. You may ask why I
did not try to organize a rescue expedition ; or why,
at least, I did not bring Hascombe's discoveries be-
fore the Royal Society or the Metaphysical Insti-
tute. I can only repeat that I was a broken man.
I did not expect to be believed; I was not at all sure
that I could repeat our results, even on the same
human material, much less with men of another
race ; I dreaded ridicule ; and finally I was tormented
by doubts as to whether the knowledge of mass-tel-
epathy would not be a curse rather than a blessing
to mankind.

However, I am an oldish man now and, what is
more, old for my years. I want to get the story off
my chest. Besides, old men like sermonizing and
you must forgive, gentle reader, the sermonical turn
which I now feel I must take. The question I want
to raise is this : Dr. Haseombe attained to an unsur-
passed power in a number of the applications of
science — but to what end did all this -power serve?
It is the merest cant and twaddle to go on asserting,
as most of our press and people continue to do, that
increase of scientific knowledge and power must in
itself be good. I commend to the great public the
obvious moral of my story and ask them to think
what they prppose to do with the power which is
gradually being accumulated for them by the labors
of those who labor because they like power, or be-
cause they want to find the truth about how things
work.

The End.

The RETREAT TO MARS

3i/ CecilRWhite

{'Author of JiThe Lost Continent"

460

THE RETREAT TO MARS

461

CHAPTER I
rIE sun had dipped below the western
| hills, leaving a gorgeous mass of color
its wake. I stood there a3 the twi-
light arch swept up from the east,
I watching the shadows creep over land
an3 sea while the faint evening ciouds overhead
turned blood-red under the last glancing rays of
the sun.

Many times had I watched the setting of the sun
and the evening shadows, while the mosquito-
hawks hovered overhead with their plaintive cries,
or plunged whirring downward upon their prey.
Never twice the same that picture held me. until
the city lights sprang into being in the distance
and the flashing lights of the sentinels of the coast
pierced through the gloaming.

As I turned away to begin my night's work the
crunch of footsteps on the gravel path broke the
etillncss of the evening. An elderly, bearded man
approached. He had come up the trail and I had
not noticed him until he was nearly upon me.

Visitors to my little observatory are not uncom-
mon. A few, those who show interest more than
curiosity, are allowed to look through the instru-
ment, on the rare occasions when it is not engaged
in photographic or spectrographs work.

"Mr. Arnold?" queried my visitor as he ap-
proached. "I hope that I am not intruding. I
tried to get you on the 'phone today, but was un-
successful, and having been told that I would And
you here, I took the liberty of coming to see you."

"I am just about to open up for the night"
said I, "and if you don't mind my carrying on
with my work — "

"Not at all, not at all," he replied, "I can talk
to you just as well — that is, if I will not be in your
way?"

Having been assured that he would not trouble
me, he followed me into the observatory and
watched while I opened the shutters that covered
the aperture of the dome.

This done and my right-ascension circle set I
turned the telescope on the first star of my eve-
ning's program.

When I had started the exposure, and entered
up the necessary data in the observing book, I
turned to him.

"You must pardon me,
my dear sir, if I ap-
pear to be rude or in-
hospitable, but I am
anxious to obtain a spec-
trogram* (1) of this star
before it gets too far
west for observing" I ex-
plained. "All I have to
do now is to keep the
star's image on the slit
of the spectroscope. — -■ .

"I noticed that you
were engaged in spectrograph ic work," he remarked.
"How long will your exposure be?"

Prom his remark I gathered that he knew some-
thing of the work in hand, so I answered, "About

Spectrogram. A photograph of the spectrum.

forty-five minutes with this seeing*(2). It's a
fifth magnitude star that I am working on. Would
you care to take a look at it?"

He climbed up the observing ladder and stood
beside me while I explained things to him. When
I had finished he turned to me, half smilingly, and
said:

"Is this seeing anything like it was last Novem-
ber when you made your remarkable observations
of the planet Mars?"

"Apparently you have been reading my papers,"
I said. "No, conditions are not nearly as favor-
able now as they were at the time that other work
was done. If I were to live a thousand years I
doubt if I should ever see other nights to equal
those four."

"Yes, I did read those papers of yours," he re-
plied. "They are the cause of my presence here
this evening. I am Hargraves, of the Smithsonian
Institute."

I took hia proffered hand. Hargraves was a well-
known archaeologist, though I must confess that
I should not have known of him except by chance.
On glancing through "Science Abstracts" a few
weeks previously, I happened on an abstract of a
paper of his which aroused my curiosity, and I
had looked up the original, which had proved highly
interesting.

I admitted as much to him. He laughed. "We
work in different spheres, as a rule" he said, "but
this time I am stepping into yours. That was a
great fight you had with Kriissen and his associates
over Sehiaparelli's "canali"

"Wasn't it," said I. "The trouble with those
chaps is that they do not know what good seeing is
iilly like. They have, perhaps forty or fifty clear

nights
with ou
fifty-fot

TP you are interested in Martian stories, here is one
that will prove an eye-opener. The author of this
story, himself a well-known astronomer and scientist,
propounds an entirely new and interesting theory about
the origin of mankind in this TfurW, and sets forth ex-
cellent arguments for his contention. The idea is so
unique and the story so -well ivrilten that you are almost
convinced that somehow or other the whole thing must
he real. There are so many »™ ideas and new possible
i»7'cntions contained in this story that we are certain it
will secure a niche all by \tself in your memory.

uf which begin to compare
Then, because they have a
ir men retractor* (3) against my twenty-
ch, they think that they are much better
able to see fine detail than I am. I,ct me tell you,
Doctor Hargraves, those four nights were perfect,
absolutely perfect. I was able to use my highest
power* (4) of four thousand and there was not
the slightest tremor in the image. Had my driving-
clock been perfect, I could
have photographed every-
thing I saw."

"I know," my compan-
ion replied. "Every detail
of your drawings was cor-
rect. You may wonder
how I — an archaeologist—
know anything about the
planet Mars, but I have a
big surprise in store for
you."

^ ■■— I jooked at him in
amazement.

•(2) Seeing, The quality of the observing conditions. For
first-class seeing the atmosphere must be very steady and the
skv dear. Surli srving is. mi fortunately, extremely rare.

•(3) The size of a telescope is denirtrd bv the diameter of
the lens, or. in the case of a reflector, of the mirror.

*(4) The powers usually used under good conditions for
planetary work are from 300 to 800 times.

462

AMAZING STORIES

"I don't wonder you are surprised," he continued.
"I have made some discoveries that I think no one
ever dreamed of. As you are probably aware, I
have only recently returned from Africa after a
six years' absence."

I nodded, for in the paper I have already men-
tioned, Hargraves announced that he had made
some startling discoveries in Africa as to the
origin of mankind, . . . discoveries which
overthrew previous theories about the origin of
man, but the exact nature of his find was not to
be made public until such time, when the records
he had found hidden away in a remote corner of
"Darkest Africa" were fully deciphered.

"Some years ago," he continued, "I became con-
vinced that the rise of mankind took place, not
in Asia where it is generally supposed to have oc-
curred, but in Africa.

"This belief thrust itself upon me as I was writ-
ing a book which I never published; a book which
was to have traced the migration of mankind from
the place of its origin, over this globe of ours. I
amassed a tremendous amount of data which led,
when I came to piece it together, to Central Africa,
and not to Asia as I had confidently expected.

"I searched again and again for an error which
I thought must exist in my work, but the trail
inevitably led to the same conclusion: Central
Africa was the 'Garden of Eden' of mankind.

"As you are aware, this was contrary to all
earlier evidence, so I did not care to propound my
theories without further corroboration. On con-
sulting with the heads of my department, laying
the evidence before them, it was decided to or-
ganize an expedition to see if any fresh data was
available on the ground itself.

"The expedition, a small one as such things go,
was organized and led by myself. It was success-
ful, but the results are not yet ready for publica-
tion. To you, however, I would like to show what
we have found, the understanding being, of course,
that it shall not be divulged until my work is
finished. Could you come and see me at my hotel?
1 will probably be in town for a week, anyway."

"Why not come and spend tomorrow evening with
me?" I asked.

So we arranged it.

Having finished the spectrogram, I showed my
companion what I could of my equipment and
turned the telescope upon a few of the show objects
in the heavens, which delighted him immensely.
After this I saw him safely started down the trail,
equipped with a flashlight to light his way to the
road, where his taxi awaited him.

Throughout the night I could not keep from won-
dering what Hargraves had found in Africa that
could be connected with the planet Mars. The
dawn found me without a conjecture and I turned
in to dream wild dreams of Hargraves and Africa.

CHAPTER II

THE following evening found us comfortably
settled in my den. I was eager to hear his
story.

"I am not going to prolong my story with the
details of the hardships of our journey" Hargraves
began. "It is the usual stuff one reads in books

of travel. Famine, thirst and fever played their
usual roles, with the result that my two white
companions were out of the game before two years
had passed. One died, and the other had to be
escorted back to the coast, where he subsequently
recovered.

"With a handful of native bearers, I pressed
on with the search, following every clue and rumor,
only to be disappointed time and time again. We
moved slowly and laboriously through unexplored
Central Africa, ever seeking traces of man's handi-
work other than that of the natives.

"I was laid up in camp with an attack of fever
when another rumor was brought by a native who
had heard of our quest. This time it was sub-
stantiated by evidence in the form of a curiously
shaped piece of metal. This was, in form, some-
what like a shoehorn and pointed in two places
with an ingenious form of ball-and-socket joint. On
examining it closely I saw that there had been two
other pieces attached to the central portion, which
had evidently been snapped off. Where the metal
showed its broken surface it was bright and
crystalline in appearance, so that I judged the
break was of recent date. At first I thought that
the natives who had found it had cleaned it up,
for the surface was bright and shiny.

"Lying there in my blankets, I questioned the
messenger through my interpreter, but I was as-
sured that it was just as it had been found some
years before. The metal of which it was made
was unknown to me. It looked like steel, with a
lustrous surface, but it weighed no more than an
equal amount of aluminum. Later tests showed
that it had much greater strength than steel and
that it was extremely hard; even a file would leave
no mark upon it.

"From what I could gather it had been picked
up in a valley lying some ten or eleven days' journey
to the northwest of us, when several members of
his tribe had ventured in on a hunting expedition.

"I say 'ventured in' because the whole of the
area in question is looked upon by the local tribe3
as the abode of the dead, and it was only when
starvation threatened, and hunger overcame their
fears, that they dared to penetrate this forbidden
valley.

"Impatiently I waited until I was well enough
to travel, then we set out with the messenger as
a guide. Gradually the character of the country
changed until the swampy, fever infested jungle
gave way to a rolling park-like country.

"Our way led steadily upwards until on the ninth
day we were moving over a verdant plateau which
was alive with small game. My little pocket aneroid
barometer showed us that we were about four-
thousand five hundred feet above sea level. That
evening we camped at the foot of a low range of
hills and our guide assured me that on the morrow
we should enter the forbidden valley.

"True to his promise, the following noon found
us at the entrance to a little valley bounded by low
bills, through which flowed a considerable stream.
The hills on either side were gloriously green, be-
tokening a generous supply of moisture, the park-
like character of the valley being enhanced by oc-
casional groups of a species of oak tree, and here

THE RETREAT TO MARS

463

and there patches of a flowering shrub whose scent
filled the valley with a delicious odor. The bark
of this bush, I learned, was used by the natives
in lieu of tobacco, and it was not half bad as a
substitute, I can assure you, especially after one
had been many months without the comfort of
'Lady Nicotine.'

"It was with the greatest difficulty that I per-
suaded our guide to remain with us, and then only
after I had presented him with a charm in the
3hape of a ring, which 1 had to assure him would
ward oil" all danger, did he. consent to enter the val-
ley with us.

"Late that afternoon, we arrived near the spot
where our guide had found this metal object. We
made camp at once and I set out to survey the
valley.

"About a quarter of a mile from the camp the
floor of the valley narrowed, bounded on the one
side by a steep cliff and the other by a ridge which
ran out at right angles from the southern slope.
This formation immediately aroused my curiosity,
for I thought that there must be some outcrop of
rock here, which kept the flood- waters of the
stream from removing it. Besides, I was anxious
to learn something of the geological formations of
this district.

"Attended by my guide, I walked down the val-
ley towards this formation. Sure enough there was
an outcrop of rock on the north side, a hard lime-
stone formation whose foot was lapped by the
waters of the stream. Wading through the shallow
water, we crossed over to the south bank.

"Where the waters had removed the surface soil
I saw what at first I took to be a rib of rock
reaching into the 3tream. On closer inspection
I saw that this was, not rock, but metal. It was
worn and scored by the waters of ages, but on
scraping away the soil above the flood level I ex-
posed clean cut edges. A rib of the metal ran
back into the hillside.

tftXT'ITH a sharp stake I probed the soft, loamy
* » soil and was ahle to trace the direction
of this rib up the hillside for a distance of perhaps
thirty feet, where the covering became too deep
for my probe to penetrate. Marking the spot where
I could last feel it, I skirted the east and west
sides of the mound with the hope of finding an-
other clue, but I could see nothing.

"The tropical night shut down with its usual
suddenness during my investigations, so we wended
our way back to camp, where the light of a fire
danced and flickered in the evening air. How I
wished for a battery for my flashlight. The bat-
teries, however, had perished long ago in the steam-
ing jungle air, and I had to wait until morning
with this discovery before me."

"I know how you felt," I interrupted. "I expe-
rienced the same feeling last night."

Hargraves smiled and continued.

"That evening I set the boys to work to construct
rude digging implements from the scrub oak 'of the
hillside. Crude they were, indeed, but they would
serve my purpose in that light soil.

"Long before daylight, the camp was astir, and
by the time the sun rose the morning meal was

over and we were on our way to the mysterious
mound. Setting the boys to work at intervals
along a continuation of the line I had already
traced out, the metal rib was soon located higher
up the hillside, covered by some four feet of earth.

"I now saw that it might save time to have a
couple of natives working directly on top of the
mound, so transferring two of them, I directed
them to clear away the top soil, while the others
continued to trace the rib up the hillside.

"Two hours passed when a shout from the top
told me they had made some discovery. When I
arrived there they were clearing away the dry
soil from what appeared to be a flat metal surface.
Calling up the other boys we were soon at work
removing the earth from the rounded top of the
hillock.

"Little by little the metal surface was laid bare,
showing it to be, not flat, but rounded with the ex-
posed slope falling towards the stream. Late that
afternoon we had come to the southern edge of the
spherical surface. Here a smooth wail dropped
away at an angle of sixty-five degrees with the
vertical, as my clinometer showed. Something
else was also revealed. We laid bare another metal
rib which lay in a line with the first one.

"Again night cut short our work and tired out
from exertions with my primitive shovel, I fell
asleep directly after supper, to wake and find the
eastern sky reddening under the rays of the rising
sun.

"Working down the convex slope we gradually
laid bare the surface until one of the boys revealed
a crack in the hitherto unbroken surface. As the soil
was rapidly removed we exposed a circular plate set
flush in the metal. Near the periphery and dia-
metrically opposite each other were two holes which
we rapidly cleaned out, showing them to be let in
the -plate at an angle of perhaps thirty degrees.

"With the aid of the boys I tried to lift this
cover, or whatever it might be, but it seemed to
be as solid as the rest. A close scrutiny of the
edge, which was a little ragged in one place; made
me think it might be threaded. With this in mind
I placed two stout sticks in the holes and attempted
to turn it, but with no success until it occurred
to me to try the opposite direction. Throwing my
weight on the lever with one of the boys doing the
same on the other side I essayed to turn the plate
once more. Suddenly we were both sprawling on
our hands and knees. The plate had turned.

"Unmindful of my bruises, I jumped to the plate,
and gradually we unscrewed it, the plate, with each
turn, rising higher and higher from the surface
in which it was set. When it stood fully eighteen
inches high we came to the end of the screw and
by our combined efforts swung the heavy disc of
metal aside. Subsequent measures showed it to
be twenty-eight inches in diameter and twenty
thick.

"We had uncovered a hole some two feet deep,
at the bottom of which was another plate. Ar-
ranged in the form of a square of twelve on a side
were one hundred and forty-four equally spaced
circular holes, each one about half-an-inch in di-
ameter, and on the plate lay six metal objects. I
picked these up and examined them one by one.

464

AMAZING STORIES

They were similar in shape and size and were in
the form of a rod of circular cross section, six
inches long with a cross piece on top giving them
the form of a capital letter T. Each of these were
slotted across at various points, but no two in
exactly the same manner, and on them were en-
graved strange characters. Here is a sketch of
them."

llargravea handed me a piece of paper on which
was drawn the figures 1 reproduce here.

r + Tr n t+ i-

"The thought struck me at once that these things
might be keys to unlock whatever lay before me,
so I tried one in a hole where it fitted snugly. Now,
I asked myself, into which hole did each key fit.
There were one-hundred and forty-four holes and
six keys, so there were evidently 1441/138! (.1)
ways in which these six keys could be arranged,
using all of them. Out of more than eight trillion
ways of doing a thing with only one of them cor-
rect, the chances are somewhat against one's hit-
ting the right combination by chance!"

"You might hit it once in a million years," I
laughed, "if you could keep on trying that long."

"Well," he continued, "I saw that there must be
some solution to my problem, so I looked for a clue
and found it. One of the corner holes was marked

I

while the one diagonally opposite looked like this."

I-

He drew these figures as he spoke.
"On the plate, above what I took to be the top
of the square, were engraved twelve symbols, like

this

• i rTH+iiiii

"After copying these down In my note-book, I
sat down to think it over. From the occurrence of
twelves, both in the number of holes and the num-
ber of symbols, it might be possible, I thought,
that the duodecimal* system was used by those
who had made this thing. Following up this
thought I saw that the symbols were, in order,
zero to eleven according to our notation, hence the
first of these keys was number two and the others
60, 38, 91, 42 and 108 respectively.

"Hurriedly I placed the keys in their correspond-
ing holes and as I did so I felt the wards of the
lock mechanism engage with the slots. Turning
the keys as far as they would go I was now able
to lift the plate with the aid of the boys, using the
keys as handles.

"It was thinner than the former one, being about
a foot or so thick, and as we lifted it I noticed that
a number of radial bars on the underside had slid
back into their sockets.

(1) 144! - 138! Factorial 144 divided by factorial 133 is
144 x 143 X H2 X 141 X 140 x 139=8,020.000.000,000 +.
31=3X2X1: 41 = 4X3X2X1; etc.
•Counting by twelves instead of tens as we are accustomed
to do, hence the numbers ten and eleven will have separate

CCX7-OU can imagine my feelings as I peered down
X and saw no other obstacle in my way. Sac-
rificing one of my few precious matches I leaned
as far as I could over the hole. The match burned
bright and clear; evidently the air inside was pure.
Just below me I could see what appeared to be a
platform. Taking a stout stick, long enough to
reach it, I tested it carefully. It seemed quite
strong and firm, so taking a chance, I lowered my-
self into the hole and my feet just touched as I hung
from the edge with my hands.

"I could see by the light that filtered in from
overhead that I was standing on a metal grating.
It was not level, but tilted downwards to the north.
As I had suspected, this construction, whatever it
might be, had fallen over from the vertical and lay
at an angle on the hillside.

"Ordering one of the natives to fetch torches, I
stooped and peered around. I could dimly see that
I stood on the top of a curved stairway leading
down into the darkness. Grasping the heavy hand-
rail with which it was protected I cautiously de-
scended. I noticed that the steps were abnormally
high as I went down. Later I was to know the
reason. A few steps down and I came to another
platform, which I could make out in the faint light
as circular, surrounding a 'well.'

"Striking another match, I examined the wall be-
hind me. In its surface I saw another set of holes
similar to those in the plate we had removed. My
match flickered out and, not wanting to waste any
more of my precious store of them I climbed the
Bteps and wriggled out into the daylight to await
the arrival of the torches.

"Presently the boy I had sent arrived with a
goodly load of dry, resinous sticks that would burn
well and brightly. I lit one, and calling to him to
follow me, I again lowered myself into the hole,
remembering to take the keys with me. Stepping
carefully for fear of falling on the sloping surface,
I walked around the gallery examining the place.
It was about twenty feet in diameter with a five-
foot gallery from which fed a second flight of steps.
There were four sets of key holes in the wall about
five feet above the floor.

"The second gallery was exactly like the first and
I did not stop, but went on down the last flight of
steps. This was evidently the bottom of the cylin-
der and, like the other two stories, its walls held
the now familiar key plates.

"Going to the one on the lower side I examined it
closely. Above the square of holes were twelve sets
of symbols arranged in pairs, the first members of
these pairs corresponding to the numbers on the
keys. Evidently the keys did not correspond to the
same holes as above, so, inserting them in their
corresponding new numbers, I turned them as I
had done before.

"Immediately, a section of the wall swung inward
and there was a sudden rush of air which nearly
extinguished the torch. The air pressure had been
much leas inside the chamber which now lay open
before me, than outside, and the door was appar-
ently airtight. No wonder I could see no sign of
the joint in my first cursory examination of ths
walls.

"Before me, stacked around the sides, were a

THE RETREAT TO MARS

465

large number of box-shaped objects, held in place
by bars reaching from floor to roof of the chamber,
each box bearing a number. Removing one of the
retaining bars, which fitted into sockets, I pulled
down the top box of the tier.

"On the front of this box was a lever-like handle,
this I turned, and as I did so there came the hissing
sound of air entering a vacuum. Turning the handle
further— it was quite stiff — the air rushed in with
a final sigh and. the lid of the box raised sufficiently
for me to put my fingers under it and throw it back.

"The lever had operated an eccentric which had
forced the lid up against, the pressure of the outside
air. The lid was tongued, and fitted into a cor-
responding groove in the upper edge of the box. and
the groove was filled with a waxy substance which
had made the joint air tight. I noticed afterwards
that each box had a filled hole through which the
air had evidently been exhausted.

"Carefully packed in a substance that looked like
fine steel wool were a number of broad oblong cases,
about the size of a standard volume of the 'Encyclo-
pedia Britannica,' the topmost of which I removed.
It was of the same metallic substance that I had en-
countered all along, and on its edge was a little knob
set in a recess. This I pressed and a cover flew
back.

"It was a volume, and such a volume as the eyes
of living man never saw before. There before me
was the most startling illustration I had ever looked
upon. Instead of the usual lifeless flat things we
are used to, there lay a picture in three dimensions.
The illustration depicted an animal or reptile — I
don't know which it was — and it stood out there in
the torch light like a live thing. I ran my fingers
lightly over the surface to assure myself that it
was not a model, or in relief, but it was as flat as a
table top. The colors were marvelous: they had life
and brightness in them which enhanced the natural
look about the thing.

"At the foot of the case in which the picture lay
was a tiny lever-like arrangement. I pressed this
over and as I did so there was a tiny whirring sound
followed by a click, and the picture flicked out of
sight, and was replaced by another.

"One-half the page — if I may call them pages —
was occupied by this new illustration, the other half
being filled with characters, evidently writing of
some kind. Page after page flicked by at my touch,
the majority bearing those wonderfully executed il-
lustrations in three dimensions.

«T>OX after box was opened, and each was found
-D filled with these strange volumes. T carefully
replaced those I had removed and closed the lids
of the boxes, replacing them in their tiera.

"Where was I going to start in this place? 1
felt like a child surrounded by novel toys, not know-
ing which to examine first. Then it occurred to me
that everything was arranged in a methodical man-
ner — the numbering of the cases and the volumes
showed this. Looking on the door of this cell I saw
something I had overlooked before. It was num-
bered ten, according to our notation, Number one
must be on the first landing.

"The air was becoming thick and suffocating with
the oily smoke of the torches, but I made my way to

the first cell and opened it in its turn. Being warned
this time, I had the boy atand back with the torch
so that it would not be blown out. The pressure
here was much lower than in the other cell. I was
nearly overthrown by the sudden gust of air that
drove in before me as the door swung back.

"This chamber was similar to the one below, and
in the topmost row of boxes I saw number one in a
corner, I removed this case and, as the air was be-
coming unbearable, I took it out into the sunlight
to examine it.

"It contained what I may liken to a child's primer,
profusely illustrated. The first volume was filled
with pictures of common objects, each with a few
symbols at the sides. Trees, rivers, lakes and
mountains; birds, beasts and reptiles, the majority
of which were unknown to me. were illustrated. The
second volume contained composite pictures — simple
actions of human-like creatures and so on. I saw
at once that it would be quite easy for a man of
average intelligence to learn this unknown language
with the aid of this wonderful primer. To one who
was accustomed to deciphering old writings, as I
was, the task would be ridiculously easy.

"The setting of the sun drove me back to camp,
but not before I had replaced and locked the place,
taking the keys with me.

"By the light of the fire I studied my trophies
that night. It might interest you to know just how
the 'lessons' were arranged. Take for example the
verb 'to walk.' In one set of pictures a being was
shown in the foreground, approaching a hill. The
second showed him, bent forward, walking up the
hill, while a third showed him at the top. The
characters were exactly the same in each case, but
over the first was an inverted V; over the second,
nothing; and over the third a V. The tenses were
all indicated by a symbol above the verb. The de-
grees of adjectives were similarly indicated, hence
it simplified the written language exceedingly.

"I sat and studied well into the night until weari-
ness compelled me to cease, but at dawn I was awake
and at it again. Throughout the day I worked, hav-
ing given instructions to the boys to continue their
work of removing the earth from around the cylin-
der.

"Every moment the system of writing became
clearer, until late in the afternoon I came to a lone
sentence set out in large characters. A rough trans-
lation of it would be:

'"WE GREET YOU. CONTINUE, WE HAVE
MUCH IN STORE FOR YOU.'

"Here was a direct message, and a message that
made my heart leap. If I had worked bard up to
this point, T worked feverishly now. Who, I won-
dered, were 'WE'?

"The following day another message was trans-
lated. It read:

THE PEOPLE OF ANOTHER WORLD
GREET YOU.'

"I checked my translation again and again, but
I had made no mistake. That was the meaning of
the sentence.

"As the days slipped by I came across more of
these interpolated sentences, all encouraging me to
go on. This personal touch made me fee! as though

466

AMAZING STORIES

there were some beings anxious for my advance-
ment so that they could communicate with me.

"The days grew into weeks before I had mastered
the language sufficiently for the purpose of those
who wrote it. In the meantime the natives had
progressed with their task but slowly, due to the
poor implements with which they had to work. They
worked slowly but honestly, ho I did not press them,
for I could see I had months of work ahead of me
before I even scratched the surface of the wonder-
ful store of knowledge that lay before me.

"We were truly in a Garden of Eden, for game
and fiah abounded, while edible fruits and berries
served to keep down sickness, which would surely
have followed a meat diet. In this way I was able
to conserve our none too plentiful supply of pro-
visions. The head boy was an excellent shot, so our
ammunition was not wasted as it would have been
had we depended upon my powers with a rifle. The
climate was almost perfect.

"Eventually I arrived at the end of my primary
course and came, at the end of the last volume, to
a message which read— 'First read volume one, case
three. A complete catalogue of the contents of the
library will also be found in this case.'

"This volume was soon secured, and without hesi-
tation I plunged into it. It was written in a fairly
simple style, and with the aid of an excellent dic-
tionary I found in the same case, I was able to read
right through. I read it in four days, hardly stop-
ping to eat or sleep, nearly ruining my eyesight with
the strain. After that I slackened up a bit and did
manual work at intervals in order to get some exer-
cise. I will outline the contents of this volume to
you.

CHAPTER III
[((T TTUNDREDS of thousands of years be-
I — I fore this story opens, intelligent life
Jl M. had dawned upon one of our nearest
neighbors in space, the planet Mars; in much the
same manner as we have supposed it to do on this
Earth of ours, so that at the time this narrative
was written civilization had reached a very high
plane. The records show that they had reached
what we might call the ideal state. Every being was
intelligent enough to work under what I might call
a system of social democracy.

'"Every member of the planet's teeming millions
was an integral part of a smoothly working system
in which no parasites existed, for when one, by some
atavistic freak, did turn up who attempted to
"throw a monkey-wrench into the machinery" he
was simply exterminated.

" 'Throughout the ages, while this system was
slowly being built up, the race had been carefully
developed by intelligent selection in mating and
every undesirable feature had been slowly elimi-
nated. The result was that at the time this narra-
tive opens every man and woman on the planet was
both mentally and physically perfect.

" 'As time went on it became apparent that the
life of the planet would be shortened by the loss of
air and water vapor. The gravitation on the sur-
face of Mars being much less than on the Earth,
nearly one-half aa great, the gases of its atmosphere
would more readily escape. The Kinetic Theory of

Gases shows that a velocity of seven miles a second
is readily obtained by the faster moving molecules
of water vapor. This is the critical speed for escape
from the Earth's attraction. How much more read-
ily will the water vapor escape from a planet like
Mars.

" 'Some scheme had to be developed then, in order
to reduce this rapid escape of the planet's vital
fluid, if life on the planet was to be possible in
future ages.

" "Martian engineers set to work, after due delib-
eration, to construct gigantic underground reser-
voirs lined with an impervious material. After
nearly a thousand years' labor the work was linished
and the waters of the lakes and seas were impounded
in these vast underground storage basins.

'"To conserve the precious liquid still further,
that which was deposited as snow in the polar re-
gions was carefully trapped as the summer sun
melted it. Huge subterranean aqueducts led it back
equator- wards, assisted by enormous pumping
plants. These conduits were tapped at intervals by
lateral lines in order to supply water to irrigate the
fast drying surface, and at the time the record was
written, the construction of an intricate system of
conduits and pumping stations was weil under
way.* "

"Just as the late Professor Lowell hypothecated,"
I exclaimed, to which Hargraves added :

"And those oases, as Lowell called them, were the
locations of the pumping stations, the intensely cul-
tivated area around them causing them to show up
as black dots on the planet's surface, as your ob-
servations showed.

"The prominent blue-green markings on our
neighbor in space are of a heavier soil and are the
old sea beds. The lighter sandy soils were aban-
doned, because of the large quantity of water neces-
sary to make them fertile, save along the lines of
the canals. But to continue —

" 'With their highly developed instruments the
Martians had ascertained that their neighboring
planet, the Earth, was well suited to support life.
Indeed it seemed a veritable land of promise to
them, with its vast oceans and verdant continents.
Encouraged by the thought of the possibilities this
new world held for them, researches were instituted
which resulted in a machine which would travel
through interplanetary space. The method of pro-
pulsion was similar to that of the "Goddard Rock-
et"; gases formed by the combination of certain
solid chemicals, escaping through specially shaped
nozzles attached to the after part of the machine
propelled it in exactly the same manner as our sky-
rockets are shot aloft.

" 'Wing-shaped members supported it in the air
until its velocity was high enough for it to leave the
atmosphere, while a second series of nozzles in
the bow of the craft retarded it when a landing had
to he made.

" 'A company of daring pioneers left one eventful
day to commence the first interplanetary navigation
our solar system has known, and after months of an
uneventful journey, landed safely on the Earth. An
unforeseen disaster overtook this adventurous com-
pany, however. Under the greater gravitational
force to which they were subjected here, their rela-

THE RETREAT TO MARS

467

tively frail bodies broke down. Prolapse of their
inner organs caused many to die in agony within a
month of their landing, so the project was aban-
doned and the survivors returned to their native
planet.

" 'Undaunted hy this failure they set to work to
develop a race capable of withstanding the new con-
ditions, After a lapse of nearly four hundred years
a new expedition set forth. This second party was
more successful than the first, and succeeded in
founding a colony on the high plateau region where
the cylinder was found. Their bodies were skill-
fully braced by a metal framework which relieved,
to some extent, the strain to which they were sub-
jected.

"'These first intelligent inhabitants of the Earth
were giants compared with us. Their average height
was about nine feet; their lungs, which were de-
veloped to accommodate the rarer atmosphere of
Mars, were enclosed by a barrel-like chest, but their
limbs were pitifully thin, though much better
adapted to their new environment than those of
their predecessors.

"'As time went on children were born into this
new world and new arrivals came across the gulf
every two years when Mars was in opposition".
Then came another catastrophe. As the children
born here grew, it was noticed that their intelli-
gence was inferior to that of their parents. Bodily
they were smaller and sturdier, but their mentality
when they reached the adult stage was only equiva-
lent to that of a Martian child half their age.

" 'Immigration stopped while this new phase was
anxiously watched. Everything within the Mar-
tians' power was done to check this effect, but with-
out avail. Thing3 went from bad to worse as the
second generation was born, for these were still
farther from the high mental standard of their fore-
fathers. Instead of highly intelligent beings, the
race was rapidly reverting to the primitive state.

" 'The fourth generation was but a grotesque
caricature nf the original stock, and were already
forming into bands of nomadic savages, leaving the
center of their community to wander at large over
the face of the Earth.

'"Everything within the power of the Martians
having failed to alleviate these conditions, the pro-
jected plan was abandoned. Before leaving this
planet forever, to return to their own sphere, it
was decided to buiid a monument to their endeavors,
so that as time went on and intelligence again re-
turned to this planet, a record of their attempt, and
data of the moat useful kind, would be available to
those who found it.

" 'Two other cylinders, similar in every respect
to the one I found, were constructed of a tough non-
corrosive metal which would withstand the destruc-
tive forces of the elements throughout the ages until
intelligence again appeared. This period has been
much longer than was anticipated by the builders,
I can see from what I have read. The three monu-
ments were placed where observation had showed
cataclysms of nature, such as flood or earthquake,

'Opposition. A planet is in opposition nearest to the earth
when the Sun, Earth and the planet are in the same straight
line with the Earth and the planet on the same side of the
Sun.

would be at a minimum. One where I found it, an-
other somewhere on a continent over which the
Atlantic now rolls, and the last in the continent
which we know as Australia. This latter may yet
be found. The cylinders were sealed in the manner
I have described so that none but intelligent beings
could gain access to them. They were so constructed
that should they break they would do so midway
between the dividing partitions of the cells, thus
leaving each cell intact until someone should arrive
who could solve the riddle of the system of numerals
and make keys to fit the locks.

" 'This planet and all their works were then aban-
doned. Practically all other traces of their sojourn
have now vanished into dust, though here and there
I found remains of their supporting harness, for
which they had used this remarkable metal, which
is, I believe, akin to aluminum.' "

CHAPTER IV
i t I % Y the time my cursory survey of the con-
l-€ tents of the library was completed, the
JiJ natives had succeeded in clearing away
Ihe mass of earth around the cylinder, so that I was
better able to understand its construction and what
had happened to it throughout the ages.

"The walls of the object were approximately six
feet thick with the top and bottom of convex form,
better to withstand any great pressure to which it
might be subjected. The whole structure was of one
seamless piece, unbroken save where the manhole
gave access to its interior. Four massive, equally
spaced spokes, or ribs, radiated out from the cylin-
der, the object of these being to prevent the cylin-
der rolling over as the soil subsided. The cylinder
was approximately forty feet high and sixty in di-
ameter. The arrangement of the interior I have
already described to you.

"Originally the structure had rested on the sur-
face of a hard limestone formation, but the gradual
weathering of this had caused it to sink downwards
into the little valley which now exists there.

"Having completed my examination of the cylin-
der and satisfied myself that there was nothing
more to be learned until other volumes were trans-
lated, I carefully sealed and locked the entrance,
after selecting a few of what I deemed the most im-
portant records to take away with me. The keys
I sewed into a canvas belt which I strapped about
my waist and, packing the remaining trophies very
carefully, we retraced our steps to the coast.

"Eight months after leaving the valley I was once
more in Washington where I laid my discoveries be-
fore the departmental heads. It was decided to keep
the thing secret until an expedition could go to
Africa and return with the remainder of the library.
I expect that we shall be hearing from them in a
few months' time, if all goes well.

"Among the volumes I brought out with me was
this one," Hargraves said, reaching for the pack-
age he had brought with him.

Unwrapping it, he handed me a lustrous metal
box such as he had described. I took it and pressed
the spring at the side. The cover, which I may
liken to the front board of our books, flew back.

There before me, apparently floating in space,
was the representation of a sphere. So real was the

AMAZING STORIES

three-dimensional aspect of the thing that 1 could
not resist passing my fingers over its surface to
assure myself that it really was in one plane. It
was an illustration of the planet of mystery— Mars.
At the poles glistened twin polar caps, the northern
one surrounded by a hazy outline while the southern
was belted with a liquid-blue band. It was evi-
dently the fall of the year in the planet's northern
hemisphere.

I recognized some of the principal features —
Utopia, the Syrtis Major and the Pseboaa Lucus*
(1) — though there were other blue-green markings
with which I was not familiar The desert areas, I
saw at once, were much smaller than they are today
and only a few canals were shown.

I stopped to examine the "page" on which it was
depicted. Like the case, it was of metal, and ap-
peared to pass over a roller, like the film of a cam-
era. Afterwards I learned that it was on an endless
belt arrangement, passing over a series of small
rollers which kept the metal sheet from coming into
contact with itself. Had this precaution not been
taken there was a danger of the sheets cohering
and being irreparably ruined.

Pressing the little lever-like arrangement at the
lower end of the case as my companion directed, the
picture flicked out of sight revealing another view
of the planet. A series of such views gave details
of every portion of the planet's surface and then I
came to a different type of picture.

It was an illustration showing a gigantic engi-
neering undertaking. A low range of hills formed
the background and down their slope ran a great
acar. At the foot was a vast building under con-
struction, and leading from it to the foreground
was an immense excavation at the bottom of which
were what I took to be excavating machines, whose
apparent size was enhanced by the diminutive,
human-like figures I could see here and there among
them.

Translating the legend below, Hargraves inform-
ed me that this illustrated one of the canals under
construction and that the building at the foot of
the hill housed the pumping mechanism which was
to raise the water to its new level. This particular
piece of work was at what we call the northern
point of the Trivium Charontis* (2).

Page after page flicked before me on the pressing
of the lever. Great engineering works, maps and
plans of districts and cities, and last of all views
of the cities themselves. These latter illustrations
are well worth describing. Unlike our canyon-like
streets the ways received sunlight in abundance, for
the buildings were pyramidal in form, each story
being smaller than the one below, with a broad open
apace running around it. A reddish stone seemed
to be used in their construction, with a trimming of

*(1) The reader is recommended to read "The Planet
Wars," "Mars and it:; Canals," and "Mars as (he Abode of
Lilt,"— three volume written by the late Professor Per-
cival Lowell, who ohserved Mars systematically (or twenty
■feats, mostly at FlaRstaff, Arizona, where the atmospheric
Conditions are. perhaps, better than (hose to be found at any
other observatory. These books arc well written, mostly in
non-terhnical lanRuafie— The Author,

*(2) Observations have shown that there are no great ele-
vations on the surface of Mars— nothing that appronrhes
mountainous size.

dull green, well suiting the style of architecture,
which had a Babylonian cast about it. Fancy carv-
ing or ornamentations were wholly absent.

A number of torpedo-shaped objects were evi-
dently moving through the air above the ways be-
tween these massive piles, a host of others were
"parked" on the broad galleries of the buildings,
over which were what I supposed to be long win-
dows which lighted their interiors.

This, Hargraves told me, was the metropolis of
the planet, and these were the executive offices from
which the affairs of this far-off world were directed.
A symbol mounted on a staff at the top of each
building marked the department to which it be-
longed. A flaming Sun, crossed parallel lines, a
square and compass, and a cluster of fruits were
among some of those I saw. I will leave it to the
reader's imagination to solve the meanings of these
symbols.

Another view showed the stages from which great
aerial liners left for distant cities, or to which they
came to discharge their living cargo. A few were
resting upon their cradles, taking aboard freight
and passengers, or discharging the products of dis-
tant districts into conveyors which took it rapidly
underground. All heavy traffic was carried under-
ground in the cities, I was informed, and came to
the surface only at its destination.

"To think that this was taking place half-a-mil-
lion years ago," I said to my companion. "I wonder
what it is like there now."

"Some day we may learn," he replied. "They
may have progressed but little and may be passively
waiting until our intelligence is high enough to
make it worth their while to communicate with us.
Think of the difference in intelligence which must
exist bet. ween us ! Perhaps as much as between man-
kind and the apes. We would not think of estab-
lishing communication with monkeys, would we?
Then we must not expect to hear from our neigh-
bors until we begin to approach their standard of
intelligence."

It was late that night when my visitor left, very
kindly leaving the volume behind for my further
perusal and with a promise to aid me by interpret-
ing the accompanying text. Without his aid I would
not have been able to make much of it, and would
perhaps have come to many erroneous conclusions.

The following days, with Hargraves' assistance,
I studied it thoroughly, comparing the maps with
my own drawings and checking up much of my ob-
servational data.

I have written down this story so that time would
not cause me to forget the finer details. Some day
I may publish it, if I can obtain permission.

Postscript— Since penning the above the remain-
der of the library has arrived in America, and my
friend informs me that I am quite at liberty to pub-
lish this (which he has read). At present Har-
graves, with a large staff of assistants, is engaged
in the translation of the records, but it will be a
long time before such a colossal work can be pub-
lished. The expense will be enormous. The world
has waited half-a-million years for this discovery,
so I suppose we can be patient for a few more years
until the story is given to us.

The End

ELECTR0-EP1S0DED in AD. 2025
3y 6.D Skinner

Lieutenant- Co Ion el Algernon Sidney
St. Johnstone, N.Y.N.G., had been in
a normal condition, ho would certainly
have been aware of a peculiar buzzing
sensation in the region of his upper
left-hand vest pocket; but unfortunately it so hap-
pened that his actual physical state was most em-
phatically sub-normal. Still he could hardly avoid
the suspicion that some-
thing out of the ordinary 1

down above his wide-open mouth, his tongue re-
peated the information with emphasis. Dejectedly
keeping the bottle before him, he glared in an in-
sane fury at two green !abel3 — one the trade mark
of a by-gone century, and the other a "Bottled in
Bond" stamp dated: "July 1, 1916" — which his wis-
dom told him were both forgeries.

Then, as the topographical details of his "den"
became clearer to his

and,

H'

VMOR. ■

had disturbed him
with blinking eyes, he
searched the apartment , mn , j C [ a sca-el out of "the

for possible inordinate a mm fane, lately, to find a

things. ,l ere "",)■',', " '/

The first to nl.lrad; his '/^ t'/P'^hirh Ltonh 'ha
attention was a neatly qualifications, but a fine C
folded copy of the eleven for oood_ measure. Only w
o'clock edition of the second time will you apfra
Hourh/ Bulletin, hearing --
the date: "Tuesday, Jan-
uary 7, 2025"; which, with its "up-to-the-minute"
Wall street market quotations, lay unread upon
the desk before him. This he swept to the floor
with an impatient sweep of his arm!

Next his left hand instinctively sought, with
practiced precision, a black bottle on a side-desk
close by. Holding the bottle to the light, his eyes
told him that it was empty. Tipping it upside-

blurred

his

. . , - . . picked out the recumbent

;. : f,ft ■■ form of his correctly at-

Miff, 'he Editor has been on tired and correctly featur-
iii,-i:tijn-ti,m_ stnry ii\ which ed valet slumbering peace-
)■ - '",,"]' .'.'! 1 "f" t ' , "'j ,.'""/' fully and audibly in a
ah\f\}J^nJcZ"c\itio«"d Morris chair in the far
Henry ending thrown in corner — and this under
en you have read it for the ihe very nose of his mas-
ale it to its fullest extent. ter ; instantly the bottle'

■ was hurled at the valet's'

head! — and the latter,
promptly proved his trained efficiency in the art of
sleeping "with one eye open," by automatically and
unnecessarily dodging.

Finally Algernon's superheated emotions found
vent in speech. Glaring savagely at his valet, he
said: *
"Shay you varlet! — "

He paused and chuckled for a moment at the

469

470

i AMAZING STORIES

humor of the "pun" — then he repeated loudly:
"Shay you varlet, wake up ! Lishen t'me. You
gesh bishy on 'phone, tell thash booshlegger hosh-
thjef o' mine 'f 'ee shends me more shtuff like thish,
I shee nash'nal head booshlegger's trust "nd gesh
him fired. Thash schtuff kill 'mule! You tell'sh him
t' shave money 'ee shpends on labels 'n buy shumpin'
fit f schen'Iemen's schtomach. Thash schtuff kill
'mule I"

The valet fixed one eye on his master, the other
being blackened and fully closed, and answered
promptly and precisely:

"Yes, sir! As you say, sir! But, begging your
pardon, sir, the gentleman sent word yesterday that
you should not drink any of that, as it was danger-
ous. He said, begging your pardon, sir, that the
goods they make for the common people had been
sent you by mistake. He apologized most pro-
fusely."

Algernon turned on his valet in a fury.

" 'N you lesb me kill m'self wish thash schtuff 7"
he cried. "Thash schtuff kill 'mule."

"Begging your pardon, sir," replied the valet, "I
did object to the best of my ability. But you re-
sisted most violently, blackening my eye and knock-
ing me unconscious into this chair, so that I only
recovered just as you spoke a moment ago. That
poison must have temporarily deranged your in-
tellect, sir."

"Thash it! S'poison d'ranged in'Iect. Thash
schtuff kill 'mule. S'too bad ! Here, s'take thish."
And Algernon took a bill from his pocket and tossed
it at his valet.

For a moment he sat quietly as if in a profound
study, and then another idea struck him.

"Shay you sehrimp! Whash shtaring t'me like
owl for?" he said, addressing the valet. "Gesh
bishy on 'phone, tell booshlegger-dog shend me
'nozzer case quick. S'tell him I got awfu' thirst."

"Yea, sir! As you say, sir," replied the valet
with alacrity. "But, begging your pardon, sir, the
gentleman did promise to send another case yester-
day: and, begging your pardon, sir, I believe he
would have done so, if the federal officers had not
raided him and put him in jail."

For a moment Algernon stared at his valet in a
speechless rage that partly sobered him. Then the
words came in a torrent of choice but incoherent
invective.

"Whazzat!" he cried. "Thosh — turs gesh my
booshlegger! I gesh them quick!"

He paused a second for breath, eyeing his valet
the while with maudlin profundity, and then he
continued:

"Shay you monkey-face' weptile, whash shtaring
me for?" he exploded. "Gesh bishy! Gesh bishy
on 'phone. Use p'vate code. Tell nash-nal schief
t' call hish dogs of my booshlegger a' once. Tell
him I get his scalp shure. Tell him thish Alg'non
Shid'ey Shaint Shons'one. Y'un'erstan'? Alg'non
Shid'ey Shain' Shons'one!"

With a "Yes, sir! At once, sir! As you say,
sir!" the valet obeyed promptly, and was soon
buried in his master's private code-book; while
Algernon, now considerably sobered by his rage,
became fully conscious of the peculiar buzzing sen-
sation in the region of his upper left-hand vest
pocket — and of the fact that this buzzing indi-

cated beyond a doubt that his fiancee, Esmeralda
Clementine Jones-Bronson, desired to communicate
with him.

Well versed as he was in the art of "managing"
the "female-of-the-species" in the infinite variety
of moods to which she is addicted, a quizzical smile
played for a moment around his lips as he realized
that his inadvertent delay in answering his Esmer-
alda's "call," bad accidentally turned out, a master-
stroke. She had "ridden her high horse" in the
recent row, had flaunted a daring defiance of his
most earnest wishes in his very face, and had fin-
ished by throwing her engagement-ring contemptu-
ously at his feet! Presumably she was contrite
now, and ready for a reconciliation. But he well
knew that, if he would not be bullied through life
by his future wife, he must maintain the upper
hand throughout the engagement period; and — hia
delay in answering would have a chastening effect!

THE row had started when he presented Esmer-
alda, as a birthday present, with one of two
specially-designed miniature radio receiving-and-
broadcasting sets. His own carried the equipment
in a small gold case in his vest pocket; while the
wiring, the antenna, and the steel frame which held
the head-phone in place with microphone pendant
before the mouth, was coiled and folded in a tiny
golden receptacle on the outside of the pocket. The
steel wiring was "Electro re-tempered" by a new
process, which increased its tensile strength one
hundred fold; while the copper was first tempered
by the re-discovered process which for centuries
had been a "lost art," and then "Electro re-tem-
pered" the same as the steel. So that, while of
gossamer-like delicacy in appearance, the whole
apparatus was in fact much stronger than the old
styles. Both sets were permanently adjusted to the
delicately-complicated, alternating "E.V.R.-X.Y.Z."
wavelength, which the makers believed proof
against duplication, and which they guaranteed
against static within a radius of 10,000 miles under
any possible conditions. The cover of the outer
receptacle of his own set was in shape a gold shield,
with a "spread-eagle" engraved rampant upon a
South Sea Island golden-sunset field on its face.
This was liable to he mistaken, by its appearance,
for a decoration of European royalty; and Es-
meralda had agreed with him that it was quite
nifty.

But hers was contained in the back of a "veri-
thin" wrist watch, and that was where the trouble
started. She wanted a lavalliere as a decoration
for her bosom! And, growing sarcastic towards
the last, he had admitted that that portion of her
anatomy did need some kind of covering; but he
had denied the efficacy of the "lavalliere" idea for
that special purpose. He had contended that both
the decollette in the front and the "open-back" fea-
tures of her gowns, should stop at the "lines of
curvature." He had even launched into a general
tirade against a number of her recent costumes, .
and had called them "pieture-frame" conceptions;
because "they performed a similar function," in
that "they merely furnished the setting for empha-
sizing the details of the things revealed."

That, as he had believed, had settled their argu-
ment! But two days before this, she had appeared

ELECTROEPISODED IN A.D. 2025

471

adorned with the best that Wertheimer, the Paris
arbiter of the world's fashions, could devise in the
way of a realization of his "picture-frame" sar-
casm; and the row that resulted had, this time,
been hectic on both sides — with her scoring the
final "point" by throwing her engagement ring at
his feet.

Then, through the great "Electro-visional" dial
attached to his general radio outfit, he had watched
her "take off" from the roof in her runabout mono-
plane, had noted the reckless speed with which she
drove it through the air, had chuckled when an
aerial speed-cop took her license number and
"tagged" her hy shooting the citation into the rear
of her machine, had seen her land on her own roof
and, a moment later, had watched her "take off"
again in her large touring biplane and rapidly grow
into a tiny speck in the western sky. Evidently his
Esmeralda was a high-strung thoroughbred, who
meant business when her dander was up!

For a brief moment Algernon made a profound
effort to solve the problem as to just how long he
should keep her waiting before he answered her
"call." The nice adjustment of time to the particu-
lar individuality of the person concerned under the
correlated circumstances enumerated, was a matter
of supreme importance! Then, suddenly, the idea
occurred that she might have met with an accident.
Instantly he acted !

Touching a spring on the golden radio-receptacle
on his vest pocket, he caught the released frame-
work in his hand, slipped the catch that allowed it
to snap into shape, and quickly adjusted it to his
face. Then, choosing his words carefully and spar-
ingly, he spoke into the pendant microphone with
an attempted precision to conceal his thick tongue,
asking :

"This you, Esm'alda?"

"Yes, this is me!" she snapped back promptly.
"Who did you suppose it was? Have you been
giving away any more of these 'special' radio sets
to any other female? If I catch you playing any
tricks on me with any other huzzy, I'll make you
wish that you had never been born ! If — "

Patiently, and speaking more clearly than before,
Algernon stopped the flow of words by interjecting
another query.

"Want an'thin' p'ticular?" he asked.

"Yes! I want help quick— right this minute," she
answered. "My leg is broken and I can't move, and
there is a nasty big tiger on the ledge right over
my head just ready to spring on me and eat me up !
I was flying west in my big 'plane, and I was out
of our district where everybody knows me and papa
has them all 'fixed,' and I was away out here where
nobody knows me, and one of those beastly 'Purity
League' sleuths caught me powdering my nose, and
he chased me, and T 'stepped on the gas' and hit the
two-hundred miles-an-hour clip, and I thought of
that new 'Electric Spark-screen Broadcaster' you
had attached to the 'plane, and I turned that loose,
and then I circled behind the screen, and that brute
must have chased me into the ocean, for I ran
straight into this mountain before I could see where
I was going, and I fell a thousand feet or more, and
I broke my leg so I can't move, and that horrid
tiger — "

Algernon's stoppage of the verbal torrent was de-
cidedly impatient this time.

"Shay lis'en," he broke in. "If you don't tell
where at, I can't find you. Tell in code."

"Ain't 1 telling you just as fast as I can?" she
retorted. "I've been talking just as fast as I could
make my tongue go ever since you finally answered
me, and you took an awful long time in answering,
and I can't tell you where I am at if you don't
let me talk, and I think you are a brute, and I be-
lieve you- are still drunk, and here is the location in
code: '693-1-41: 396-4-141: 356-1-22: 690-2-142:
and be sure you put it down on paper right away
so you don't forget, and — "

But Algernon had "bung up."

By now he was sober enough to realize that he
was not sober enough for the task in hand, so he
quickly snapped the bracelets of an "Electric Re-
generator around his wrists, set the regulator at
"2 seconds," lapsed into unconsciousness— and
awoke at the end of that time an entirely different
man, as the result of the equivalent of two nights'
natural sleep.

HIS first move on awakening, was to reach for
a button in the desk before him marked "Pack-
age Transporter"; but he paused with the move-
ment half completed, as a look of pain distorted his
face. For a moment he clasped both hands across
his forehead, moaning, in helpless misery: "My
God! What a headache!"

His helplessness, however, was only temporary.
Turning to a silver urn behind him, which bore the
golden-inlaid legend: "Pasteurized Water," he
pressed what appeared to be a part of a carved
figure in the mahogany base and a secret drawer
shot out revealing a number of coffee cups, spoons
and a box of tablets labeled : "Equivalent— 2 Spoons
Sugar and 1 Jigger Cream." Dropping one of these
tablets and a spoon into a cup, he set it down on
his desk. Next he took a diminutive collapsible
microscope, with a lens of flexible glass, out of his
pocket; and, with its aid, picked out an all-but-
invisible needle-point concealed in the filigree orna-
mentation of the faucet of the urn. This he pressed
with his finger nail. Then he pushed a button in
the faucet labeled "Hot," and filled the coffee cup
as he mumbled jubilantly to himself: "Some trick
this! You get your 'pasteurized water' according
to government regulations all right, but — oh! You
naughty little needle." He eyed the dubious looking
mixture that flowed into the cup for a suspicious
moment, tasted it hopefully- — and then, livid with
rage, spat the stuff out and hurled the cup across
the room.

Speechless for a moment, he controlled himself
with an effort; and then, with desperate haste, un-
locked a private drawer in his desk and opened it
half-way to a visible line. Pulling a cord hanging
over his head, which started an electric fan going —
and which, in this precise connection, also caused
a slight orifice in the panel of the drawer to unfold,
revealing an assortment of crystalline- white and
brownish-looking pills— he selected one of the white
pills, placed it in his mouth and crunched it be-
tween his teeth to get quick action, in spite of his
vigilant valet's "Begging your pardon, sir," pro-
test.

472

AMAZING STORIES

"Can't help it, John," he said. "This is a real
emergency and I simply have got to have some-
thing. On the face of things, it looks like the nar-
cotics are the only genuine stuff left to us by the
'Bootlcgger-Smugglcr-Prohibitionist Combine'."

The look of pain that had distorted his features
quickly disappeared, and in its place there came the
comforting jubilance of an anticipated pleasure.
Turning to a combination-lock to the cash drawer of
his desk; he set the knob at "0," turned it forward
to "20," back to "15," forward again to "2," back
to "1," again forward to "3," back a full revolution
again to "3" and lastly forward to the final "15."
Then he applied a firm, steady pressure to the knob,
and a circular segment of the floor upon which the
desk stood, and whose scarcely discernable outline
blended so perfectly with the inlaid floral scroll de-
sign of the floor as to appear an integral part of it,
revolved half-around, disclosing a considerable com-
partment filled with sealed tins of tobacco, and a
varied assortment of pipes. Filling a "briar" from
a half-empty tin, he adjusted the patent "Smoke
Consumer," pushed a button in the desk which
caused the room to be sprayed with an atomized
disinfectant which deodorized the fumes and pre-
vented external detection of the felonious act, "lit
up," and took long, deep draughts at the pipe. The
serene content of an anticipated joy realized, stole
over his face; and, discreetly to himself, he mur-
mured defiantly: "The skunks caught me napping
with their 'Anti-coffee law all right, but I was
'Johnnie -on-the-spot' when they prohibited tobacco,
and I prepared myself for life."

Then, with clear-headed precision, he proceeded
to business.

Instructing his valet to make careful notations on
a tablet to avoid mistakes, he dictated :

"As soon as you are through with that booze-pro-
hibition officer, prepare a message in code for this
white-livered rat who sold me this trick (pointing
to the urn). Tell him to take back this synthetic
'Coffee Extract' he stung me with, and credit its
cost on my account. I won't pay for it. Tell him
to send me at once one gallon' genuine centuple
extract of Mocha coffee, if he has it — and be sure
to emphasize the 'genuine.' If he hasn't the
Mocha, tell him to get it as soon as possible; and,
in the meantime, he shall send me one gill of
any genuine (emphasize that 'genuine') coffee
extract that he has. If he claims that he can't
get the genuine through— as he probably will,
for the crook is without doubt trying to 'bull the
market'— tell him that I know positively that he is
in with the opium-smuggling gang, that I know he
can get the genuine coffee through just as they get
genuine dope through, if he wants to; and that
I will set the federal officers after him, and see to
it that he gets life, if he is gay with me. Get the
fact into the numskull's head, if you can, that he
is dealing with Algernon Sidney St. Johnstone and
not with one of the common people!"

With the dictation completed, Algernon suddenly
became conscious of the fact that his system was
demanding sustenance after his prolonged fast — in
plain words, that he was vulgarly hungry — and so,
having no time to partake of a regulation repast in
the regulation manner, he pulled a gold case from
hia pocket, extracted a couple of tablets stamped:

"Equivalent — One Full Meal," and hastily swal-
lowed them.

Refreshed and invigorated by the nourishment
so seriously needed, he proceeded to quick, effective
action.

Pressing a button in his desk marked: "P.T.", an
apparently ornamental filigree upon the ceiling
dropped and snapped into the form of a suspended
package transporter. Pushing a button on the re-
ceiver of the transporter numbered: "7826," a book,
stamped with that number, promptly slid into his
hand. The book proved to be a Laird and Lee'3
"Common School Edition" of " Webster's New
Standard Dictionary" of the copyright date of
"1912." He had chosen this as his and Esmeralda's
private code-hook, because he believed that the two
copies possessed by them were all that remained in
existence.

Slipping the book into his "Lightning Code-do-
cipherer," he touched the numbered keys of its key-
board in the numerical combination given him by
Esmeralda in her message, and the delicate wire .
arms quickly turned the pages and picked out for
him the words : "Parker," "pass," "mount," and
"McKinley." Remembering the "tiger" she had
spoken of, he was puzzled for a moment by the
manifest absurdity of looking for such an animal
in the eternal snows of the Alaskan mountains! —
and then he thought of the "Electro-visional" dial.

Turning to a globe contained in a complicated
mechanism behind him, he picked two fine needle-
points out of a holder, pressed one through its gela-
tine surface at "Mt. McKinley" and the other into
"New York City." Giving the globe a single revo-
lution, the indicator of the "Lightning Air-line Dis-
tance Calculator" promptly registered "3668 miles,
264 feet, 00 inches." Throwing the clutch of his
"Electro-visional" into the "3670 mile" circuit, he
picked out, with the aid of his microscope, the faint
outline of the twin heads of "Denali and his Wife"
barely within the "W.N.W." sector of the white
circle that appeared on the dial. Inserting a needle-
point barely beyond and to the left of the higher
of the two mountain peaks/he took a delicate copper
wire and connected this with "Local." Throwing
the clutch back into "Local," the faint outline of
the mountain disappeared, and a vivid picture of
"Parker Pass" replaced it. But, even with his
microscope, he could find nothing of his Esmeralda!
Finally, in the lower end, he picked out a faint
biurr of fine lines — flashing, disappearing, and
flashing again — and, remembering that she had her
"Electric Spark-screen Broadcaster" working at
the time of her mishap, he reasoned that the thing
was probably operating even yet, and that, there-
fore, he had at last definitely located his beloved.

FOR a moment the incongruous "tiger" tor-
mented him, but he figured that she, in her evi-
dent excitement, had probably distorted or incor-
rectly expressed a glimpse at a mountain goat, or
something of that sort.

Having successfully solved the problem of hia
Esmeralda's whereabouts, his next move was to ap-
ply to the "National Aerial-control Bureau" in
Washington for a special permit, with "right-of-
way," for an "Electric- flash" transit to Mt. Mc-
Kinley, Alaska, between the 20,000 and 22,000 feet

ELECTRO-EPISODED IN A.D. 2025

473

strata, with return privilege "under his own
power," starting "three minutes from moment of
application." He also demanded photographed
copies of permit and necessary orders.

"Permit, etc., scarcely needed at that altitude,
especially as only one other 'Electric-flash' machine
yet in existence; and that—," the clerk attempted
to expostulate.

But Algernon peremptorily shut off the sluggish
clerk's remonstrances.

"Cut advice-stunt about what I need," he broke
in, "and get busy with what I want, or I'll call the
chief. Do you realize whom you are dealing with?
Now get busy, and SNAP TO IT I"

And, seeing in his "Electro-visional" that the
magic of his name had produced instant "snapping-
to-it" activities on the part of the clerk, he con-
nected up his "Radio Electro-photographing" cam-
era, and turned his attention to the last necessary
detail to he arranged before his departure.

Slipping the plug of his "Radiophone" into the
"E.V.R." wavelength socket, he snapped the frame-
work of its head-phone and microphone combina-
tion over his face, and called softly: "Charlie Grant
there?"

"Yep! This is Charlie speaking," his broker's
voice replied, with terse economy of words.

Recognizing the voice, Algernon's next question
was to the point.

"Anything doing on 'change?" he asked.

"Quiet as a 'chink' funeral now — just over flur-
ry," his broker answered. "Two weeks ago rumor
broadcast President sore about inefficiency of old
Jim Macdonald — chief 'National Law-enforcement
Bureau' — and 'National Bootlegger Consolidated'
dropped ten points. Two days later Jim resigned,
and N.B.C. lost twenty points. Next day President
appointed Wheeler Wayne (who has never taken a
drink in his life, where anybody could catch him
at it), and 'N.B.C hit the skids for fifty points.
Wayne's first move was to order your local boot-
legger, Lippincott, raided and jailed, and the bot-
tom fell clear out of 'N.B.C' For nearly a whole
day the Pit was stormed by a mob of the faint-
hearted in a panic, begging anybody and everybody
to take their 'Bootlegger' stoek off their hands for
anything they would give. I had inside tip that
officers only found one quart in Lippincott's pos-
session, so I did the charitable act (in your name)
by relieving them of ten millions. Would have
plunged deeper but afraid of complicating other
deals. Two days later old Jim Macdonald and Bill
Jenkins (head National Bootlegger Trust) settled
squabble about Jim's demand for more dough; and
the 'evidence' against Lippincott' was 'lost,' he was
turned loose, and 'N.B.C floated back to normal.
With care can unload and clean up about two mil-
lions, or can hang on — just as you say."

Turning to one side Algernon slipped a sheet of
paper into, and switched the connection into what
looked like a complicated development of the orig-
inal typewriter; and then replied to his broker.

"You did fine, Charlie," he said. "Don't forget
that you double your regular percentage when I am
'off the reservation'." Then, after a momentary
hesitation to consider, he continued: "Tell book-
keeper to read statement into private radiophone at
once, as I already have 'Radioelectrodictaphonolypo-

graph' connected. Unload 'Bootlegger' stock as
soon as you can without sacrificing profits that you
are sure of, as I don't want my name publicly mixed
in the business. And now listen, Charlie! I'm go-
ing away for a bit — probably for only a day or so,
if nothing unforeseen happens. If you want me,
call on regular 'E.V.R.,' but use 'long distance.'
If you think it best to look for me, come over here
and use my 'Electro-visional.' Will probably be in
neighborhood of Mt. McKinley in 3670-mile circuit
and 'W.N.W.' sector. Good-bye!"

AS Algernon ceased speaking, the silvery "ting"
of a little bell on his "Radio Electro -photo-
graphing" camera notified him of the receipt of the
photographed copies of his government permit and
the correlating orders issued; while the discontinu-
ance of the rapid "tick-tick" of his "Radioelectro-
dictaplioriotypograph" told him that his broker's
bookkeeper had completed his statement. From the
former he extracted two slips of paper, and found
them correct. But he studied the sheet of paper
that he took from the latter for a moment, in a
perplexed confusion at the phonetic simplicity of
the spelling of the words. Then, reflecting that
this mathematically- exact translation of oral sound
would eventually assist in the elimination of the
orthographic absurdities which always had bur-
dened a language that is too complex at its best,
he shoved this into an inside pocket along with the
other two; and, pressing a button in the side-wall
which opened a small door leading into a "one-
person" sized compartment in a perpendicular
pneumatic tube, he stepped within, and was shot
to the roof.

Going to the largest of the hangars that dotted
the roof, he pushed a button — and the door flew
open, and a glistening "Electro re-tempered" copper
monstrosity trundled out on a truck. The best that
could be said for its shape was that it looked like
a gigantle beer bottle. Stepping to the mouth of
the "bottle," he pressed a button, and the stopper
flew out with a loud report. Entering the narrow
passage-way through the "neck," he switched on
the electric lights and found himself in a spacious,
tempered- glass compartment "blown-into" the
framework in such a way as to practically surround
itself with a vacuum space, and with the few nec-
essary contacts elaborately insulated. A yank at a
lever started an "Oxygen Supply" apparatus (al-
ready set at "One Person") going, and a touched
button caused the "stopper" to fly back into place
with another loud report.

From a mahogany wardrobe he took a bear-skin
fur suit which was lined with finely-woven copper-
wire cloth. Stepping into this, he set the "Interior
Heat Regulator" at 65° Fahrenheit, adjusted the
connection with the concealed storage battery, and
pushed the spring which caused the suit to "snap-
to" and fasten.

A shifted lever on a large keyboard set the "In-
terior Temperature Regulator" of the compartment
going at a "65°" adjustment, another started the
"Electro-visional," a third connected a small
dynamo with the "Atomic-energy Reservoir" and
started it supplying the comparatively trifling elec-
trical needs, a fourth completed a similar direct
connection with the rest of the mechanism and a

474

AMAZING STORIES

fifth released an electron of atomic-energy from
the basic atom into the "Atomic-energy Reservoir"
to maintain the parity of the supply.

Seating himself in an upholstered chair, he pre-
pared for quick and decisive action. With one hand
he pulled down the "Helicopter" lever, and, through
the "Electro-visional," saw a huge, "Electro re-
tempered" steel solid corkscrew-like device with a
"screw" fifty feet deep in the groove, shoot irito
the air. Setting its regulator at "Half-speed," he
touched a button and began to ascend slowly.
When the "Altitude Indicator" registered "1000
Feet," he turned "full speed" into the helicopter-
device and finished with a rush. At "20,000 Feet"
he shut the helicopter down to "Maintenance of
Altitude" speed, pulled a lever which released a
huge propeller from its underneath pocket, and set
it going at full speed "In Reverse," yanked the lever
back at "21,500 Feet," and came to a full stop at
"22,000 Feet" with the underneath propeller roar-
ing noisily but harmlessly in its enclosed pocket.

Turning to the "Electro-visional" dial, he threw
the clutch into the "3670 Mile" circuit, picked out
the faint outline of the higher peak of Mt. McKin-
ley, and stuck a needle-point into it. This he con-
nected, by means of a delicate copper wire, with
"Local"— which he knew wa3 permanently con-
nected in a similar manner with the gigantic
dynamo at Niagara Falls — set the regulator of his
"Electric-flash" at ".017 Seconds," pushed a button
which shut off the helicopter, yanked back the lever
which collapsed it into its overhead pocket; and, as
he heard the heavy copper plates bang shut over
all, he closed his eyes and touched the final button.

Then, in spite of all precautions, he wa3 nearly
blinded by the vivid lightning that enveloped the
entire machine; and, notwithstanding the intricate
system of "Shock Absorbers," he thought for a
moment that he had been yanked in two as he was
shot through space at the rate of 186,000 miles per
second. And then, as if it was a reflex of the orig-
inal yank, came the answering "tug" of the rear
propeller as it automatically shot out of its pocket
going full speed "In Reverse."

Opening his eyes with nerves taut for the crucial
moment, he reached for the "Plane-wing" lever
with one hand, and glanced at the "Speedometer"
for the indication of the moment when it would
be safe, and necessary, that he throw-out his bi-
plane-wings of "Electro re-tempered" steel with a
"spread" of one hundred and fifty feet.

Then, suddenly, the dual peaks of Mt. McKinley
appeared directly in front of his "Electro-visional";
and, throwing caution to the winds, he yanked-down
the "Plane-wing" lever, and heard the rattle and
bang of the adjustments, and saw that the appa-
ratus was withstanding a severer test than it was
guaranteed for.

And then, even as he looked, the higher peak of
the mountain appeared directly underneath; and,
with instinctive recklessness, he gave the "Steer-
ing-lever" a yank which turned the machine "on-its'
tail" at a sharp right-angle — missing a spill by a
fraction of a hair — jerked another lever which
tipped it into a practically-perpendicular "nose-
dive," snapped that lever back again and righted
himself, shove d-down the helicopter lever and
touched the button which shot that corkscrew-like

device aloft going at "Mai ntenance-of- Altitude"
speed, yanked back the lever of the rear propi-Her
which brought that instrument rattling back into
pocket where it roared in a harmless fury — and,
with a jolt, came to a full stop; while beads of
perspiration broke out on his forehead at his nar-
row escape, though a triumphant smile played about
his lips as he thought of the sensation he would
create in the next "Aerial Olympic," and his brain
registered the mental note for future reference
that it was his rear propeller going full speed "in
reverse," that had held him and saved a spill on
that acute, right-angle turn.

A GLANCE at his "Electro-visional" showed
that he was parallel with, and but a few feet
away from, the top of the cliff above Parker Pass;
and the first thing he saw was Esmeralda's biplane
with its no3e buried in a cake of ice. But its
"Spark-screen Broadcaster" was humming merrily,
and its rear "spot-light" revealed the details below,
behind the "screen," in vivid detail.

Directly below the wrecked biplane, he quickly
discovered his beloved Esmeralda standing waist-
deep in the snow, with one arm raised as if to
repel an expected attack, and still clad in the "pic-
ture-frame" costume which had caused their row.
A glimpse at his "Exterior Temperature" indicator
which registered "60° below aero," caused a fleet-
ing fear of dire results from her bare-skinned ex-
posure; but a reflection on the proven ability of the
"female of the species" for facing wintry blasts in
scanty attire, quickly chased his fears away, and
he turned his attention to the direction indicated by
her upraised, protesting arm.

And then— TO AN ABSOLUTE CERTAINTY,
HE DISCOVERED THE FIGURE OF A MON-
STROUS ROYAL BENGAL TIGER ON THE
LEDGE ABOVE HER, WHICH WAS POISED IN
THE ATTITUDE FOR ITS FINAL, FATAL
SPRING UPON ITS PREY!

With frantic energy he "yanked-down" the
"Landing" lever of the helicopter, grabbed the
parachute, pushed the button which "unstoppered"
the "bottle," and jumped — making the descent in
"record" time, but landing so violently that he was
buried in the snow, because, in his panic, he for-
got to pull the string of his parachute until he was
two-thirds down,

A momentary fear of being smothered in the
snow, was followed by a spasm of skilled "football"
tactics in "bucking" and squirming his way out;
and, floundering frantically towards his beloved, he
yelled at the top of his voice:

"Esmeralda! My darling! I am here!"
With the stately grace of a real "blue-blooded"
aristocrat, the royal maiden turned majestically,
and froze the heart within him with a frigid glare
— such as only those with four centuries of un-
mixed "Mayflower" blood in their veins, can hope
to aspire to.

"Your presence Is sufficiently perceptible," she
said in measured tones, "to preclude any necessity
for such boisterous conduct. In the future, when
we are abroad together, it will please me greatly
if you bring your manners along with you, instead
of leaving them at home. Also, I would remind you

ELECTRO E PI SODED IN A.D. 2025

475

that you have been fifteen whole minutes in answer-
ing my 'call'."

And then Nature claimed its own, and, woman-
like, Esmeralda fell fainting into her lover's arms,
murmuring as she lost consciousness: "Algy! My
darling! My savior 1"

For a brief moment Algernon pressed the inani-
mate form of his sweetheart to his manly breast,
and showered a storm of passionate kisaes upon a
wisp of her hair as it floated in the breeze against
his nose — and then he bethought him of that poised
tiger on the ledge above!

Quickly he pulled hi3 "Electric Automatic,"
aimed carefully at the beast's heart, and pressed
the button. A black spot showed on the spot he
had aimed at, and the air became filled with the
pungent odor of burned hair — but the brute above
remained in an apparently statuesque unconscious-
ness of the assault!

Nonplussed and dumfounded, Algernon pulled
out his collapsible opera glasses, adjusted them, and
studied the perplexing phenomenon closely. Then
at last a, ray of light penetrated his brain as the
memory of a forgotten incident recurred to him,
and he mentally connected this incident with the
enigma above. Realizing the simple truth at last,
he burst into uproarious laughter and yelled at the
top of his voice in unrestrained glee— until the dor-
mant echoes of the "Great Silent North" awakened
from their age-old slumbers, and an avalanche of
snow was Ioo3ened from its mooring on the opposite
mountain- side.

Algernon had remembered that, some six months
before, a Royal Bengal tiger had escaped from
"Barnum and BaileyV circus, while it was show-
ing at Des Moines, Iowa ; and that the efforts to re-
capture it, bad only resulted in driving it into the ■
northern wilderness. This, then, was that tiger !
Happening in the neighborhood and naturally in a
famished condition, a scent of Esmeralda had
reached it and had aroused its savage instincts.
But, as it stole out onto the ledge for the final, fatal
spring, being unused to northern temperatures, the
60° below zero gale had frozen it dead in its tracks !

And then, just as all his troubles and worries
seemed to have vanished, the "whir" of an airplane
engine turned hi3 eyes upwards ; and, directly over-
head, he saw a "Purity League" biplane circling
for a landing.

With frantic energy he shook the unconscious
form that reposed in his arms, and shouted into her
ear at the top of his voice:

"Esmeralda! Darling! Wake up! That 'Purity
League' sleuth has found us ! He is sure to be one

of those 'ex-convict' crooks working on a percentage
for what he can get, and, if he catches you out here
in public in that costume, he will rush you into one
of his "kangaroo' courts, and 'railroad' you into
jail ! Wake up ! Es "

THE sharp angle of Mary Jane's bony knee-cap,
adeptly from practice and forcibly by instinct,
projected into my left-hand lower short-ribs, finally
aroused me; and, as if it were an echo of my dream,
I distinctly heard the dulcet tones of her gentle
voice in my ear, shouting:

"Wake up you, John Henry! You're snoring like
a horse! Haven't I told you times enough never to
sleep on your back? Turn over on your right side!
And you've been talking something awful in your
sleep, too! Who's this 'darling Esmeralda,' any-
way? If I catch her monkeying with you, I'll
scratch her eyes out ! None of your lies, now !
There wasn't any 'Esmeralda' in that pictureplay
we saw tonight, so you better not try to spring

anything of that sort on me! Why don't you "

But, peeved by my rude awakening, and not feel-
ing well anyway, I stopped the verbal torrent by
breaking in.

"If you can't be satisfied with nagging at me
about nothing all day, but you must go waking me
up in the middle of the night to keep it up, I'll
move into the spare room, and let you sleep by
yourself," I threatened. "Besides," I added, "you've
got me crowded clear off onto the bedrail, and no-
body could sleep like that, anyway."

Mary Jane, my wife, was contrite and very hum-
ble at once, which shows that I know how to man-
age her properly when I really want to.

"I didn't wake you up to nag at you, John," she
said penitently, as she snuggled up to me and
reached out her hand to caress me. "But that stuff
of yours down in the cellar has been popping-off
to beat the band for an hour, and I just know that
you'll lose the whole batch if you don't tend to it
right away. I told you that you were bottling it
too soon, but it never does any good for me to say
anything. You'll just "

"Well, if it's going to 'pop,' it's going to and
that's all there i3 to it," I broke in petulantly. "If
you think you know so much more about it than
I do, you can just make the next batch yourself and
see if you can do any better. Now move over and
give me enough of the bed to lie comfortably in,
and give me a chance to get a little sleep."

And, as my "better-half" squirmed back to her
own side of the bed, I turned over upon my right
side and slept fairly well for the rest of the night.

The End.

7ifc?ULTRA-ELIXIR of YOUTH

^if JLflifatt Verrill

Author of "The Man Who Could Vanish," "Through the Crater's Rim," etc.

THE ULTRA-ELIXIR OF YOUTH

477

| ROM time immemorial mankind has
1 sought for the secret of eternal youth,
for some means to prevent the ravages
of age. In many lands and in many
ways men have devoted their lives to
endeavoring to make this dream of perpetual youth
a reality. They have concocted weird mixtures or
elixirs, they have wrought spells and practiced
magic, they have searched in strange lands for a
fabulous life-giving fountain, and they have been
jeered at, ridiculed, scoffed at for their pains. Hence
it will come as a most amazing surprise to the world
to learn that one man actually accomplished his
purpose, and discovered the secret -which had so
eagerly and vainly been sought for during count-
less centuries. Moreover, his discovery was made
recently— within the past three years in fact, while
more astonishing yet, the secret has been forever
lost to the world.

Now that the man responsible for the results can
never repeat his performance, and has left no de-
tailed explanation of the means whereby the con-
ditions were brought about, there is no reason why
an account of the whole matter should not be pub-
lished.

Undoubtedly many of my readers will recollect
the excitement caused by the inexplicable disap-
pearance of Doctor Elias Henderson, the well known
and prominent biologist of McCracken College.
Probably, too, it will also be remembered that, al-
most coincidentally with his disappearance, a num-
ber of the University students vanished, as well as
two private citizens and a physician.

As a great many more or less conflicting accounts
were published in the newspapers o" }he time, and
as many of these were far from accurate, it may be
well to give a brief resume 1 of the events, for,

strange as it may seem, -

the disappearance, which —
for a time supplied head-
line material for the
press, had a very direct
bearing upon the dis-
covery of perpetual youth,
or rather, I might say,
the discovery had a direct
bearing upon the disap-
pearances.

The facts in the case

were simple' and \vt;ro

well established. Five

students, two private citizens, an instructor
and a female doctor, together with Doctor Hen-
derson, completely vanished without any ap-
parent or determinable reason. The investigations
which followed, and which oddly enough were only
instituted after the disappearance of Doctor Hen-
derson, revealed the fact that the ten missing per-
sons had been absent from their accustomed haunts
for some days before they had been missed. It was
also established that all had been very friendly and
that they had frequently met, apparently in secret,
and that the other nine had made periodical visits
to Dr. Henderson's laboratory. This, however, was
not strange, as it was well known that all, with the
exception of the two citizens — one a merchant and

ogy from Dr. Henderson. It was therefore assumed
that the meetings referred to were in the nature of
purely scientific affairs, although why the unscien-
tific merchant and banker should have been present,
or should have visited Dr. Henderson's laboratory,
was a mystery.

Had Dr. Henderson not vanished, it is highly
probable that he would have been suspected of mak-
ing away with the others, but as he, too, had dis-
appeared, any such theory was of course discarded.
It was also determined that not one of the ten had
any apparent reason for vanishing; not one was in
debt or involved in any scandal, and no one could
advance any reasonable theory for any person wish-
ing to murder them, for with the exception of the
banker and merchant, all were persons of very mod-
erate means, while the banker and merchant were
known never to carry large sums of money on their
persons, but conducted practically all of their busi-
ness by means of checks.

FINALLY, and making the case even more baf-
fling, the garments of all the ten were found
intact though carelessly tossed aside. The students*
clothes were found in their several rooms, the gar-
ments of the merchant and banker were discovered
in their private offices, the lady physician's gar-
ments were in her office, and Doctor Henderson's
street clothes were found in a corner of his labora-
tory. No one who was questioned, and hundreds of
persons were examined, could definitely swear as to
when they had last seen the missing persons, and not
one witness could be located who was positive as to
the last person seen with any of the missing people.
Doctor Henderson was a rather retiring, secretive
man, and frequently slept on a cot in his laboratory,
and as no one really knew when he had vanished, no
one could remember hav-

Ti/TODRRN science is deeply in
*** to bring forth the Elixir
knmvledgc is progressing rapidly .
so our scientists assure us, when i
yiiniig for several hundred year
deft and original manner, itnai/es
the Elixir of Life. That hi

disaster to all eon
plicated and abso
biological possibit

J p,

•f Youth, dlamluhii-
d the time will come,
n can stay rea.^iiuihly
Our author, in his
iias le/iidi will prove
riments exceeded his
ved an Ultra-Elixir and a
makes the story more eom-
r ii picturesque tale of the
field of modern science.

jng seen any stranger or
other person with him
when he was last seen.
The janitor of the build-
ing, after striving his
best to revisualize the
events of the past few
weeks, stated that he was
under the impression that
he had seen a young man
— a youth of fifteen or
- - thereabouts, entering and

leaving the doctor'3
laboratory on several occasions, but he could
not be sure whether or not he had ever seen
the scientist in the young fellow's company. The
servant at the home of Dr. Elvira Flagg, also
wa3 hazy in her memory, although she, too,
declared that she had noticed a young man, and
a girl of about the same age, who frequently entered
and left the office; but whether in company with Dr.
Flagg she was not sure. As the office boys of both
the merchant and banker also remembered seeing a
youth make frequent visits to their employers the
police at once began a search for a stripling an-
swering the rather vague descriptions of the several
witnesses. No trace of such a person could be
found, but, to their surprise and confusion, the gar-

the other a banker — had been taking courses in biol- ments of such a young fellow were found in a closet

478

AMAZING STORIES

in Dr. Henderson's room, in the suite occupied by
the merchant, and in the hotel apartments of the
banker. Nothing further was discovered, and the
entire aifair was given up as an unsolvable mystery.
During the investigation however, evidences were
discovered which tended to show that several other
and hitherto unsuspected crimes had been committed
by the missing parties. Just what these were, the
authorities have never disclosed, but according to
persistent rumor they were in the nature of infan-
tile crimes. Gossip had it that persons had been
questioned who insisted that they had heard the
cries of infants issuing from Dr. Henderson's lab-
oratory, that no children had ever come forth, and
that it was their belief that the scientist and his
friends had sacrificed the infants in some experi-
ments or had actually subjected them to vivisection.
Hence, in the minds of many persons, the missing
ten had had good reason to disappear, being, so
these worthies argued, fugitives from justice and
from the wrath of the public. Indeed, rumor and
gossip soon linked the names of the ten as members
of some secret and horrible cult with human sacri-
fices and what not. And the action of the police in
hushing up the matter and abandoning all efforts
to solve the mystery, only confirmed these ugly ru-
mors in the minds of many.

But like all other mysteries and scandals, the
matter soon lost interest, and within a twelvemonth
was practically forgotten. Thus matters stood when
I received a letter from the regents of McOacken
College in which I was offered the position of Pro-
fessor of Biology left vacant by the disappearance
of Dr. Henderson.

Ordinarily, I think, I would have declined, for I
had an excellent position, and while the salary at
MeCracken was larger than that which I was re-
ceiving, yet it did not offer the scope in research
work which I desired, and as I had a" fairly good
income of my own, the salary wa3 not so important.
But remembering the mystery which had surround-
ed the former biologist's disappearance, and having
been well acquainted with Dr. Henderson when we
were students together at Belmore, the offer some-
how appealed to me, because for some inexplicable
reason, I had a feeling that I might be able to solve
the mystery.

I therefore accepted the position, and, a few
weeks later, found myself in possession of Dr. Hen-
derson's laboratory, instruments, notes and appar-
atus. I had in fact almost literally stepped into his
shoes. I am not superstitious and am not nervous,
and I have never been subject to hallucinations or
to any sensations for which I cannot account upon
scientific or medical grounds. But from the moment
when I took charge of Dr. Henderson's work and
laboratory I had the strange and wholly unaccount-
able feeling of being in the presence of others, of
being constantly watched. At times this sensation
became almost unbearable. Several times I found
myself involuntarily stepping aside as if to avoid
stepping upon or bumping into someone, although
the room was empty, and once or twice I actually
started and shivered as I seemed to feel hands
touching my limbs or body. It was, of course, ridic-
ulous. I was no believer in ghosts or spirits, and
I decided that it was merely a psychological matter,

a reaction of my nervous system to the atmosphere
of mystery which pervaded the place. Hence, I
laughed at my own sensations, called upon my su-
perior mentality to govern my subjective nerves,
and proceeded with my work, but throughout my
stay in the laboratory — which was, I must confess,
of short duration — I never overcame the decidedly
uncomfortable feelings which I have mentioned.

My first act upon taking possession of Dr. Hen-
derson's apparatus and laboratory was to combine
a thorough search of the premises with an equally
thorough housecleaning. Dr. Henderson, like so
many scientific men, was unfortunately far from
orderly or neat. Instruments, books, papers, appar-
atus, formula? and chemicals had been left in dis-
array, evidently having been left wherever the biol-
ogist had used them last; drawers and cupboards
were piled full of a hodge-podge of odds and ends ;
soiled laboratory aprons, old shoes and dirty towels
were tucked away here and there, and as I cleared
up the place I wondered how the police could have
made a thorough search of the room under the ex-
isting conditions. And it was soon evident that they
had not. Among a pile of old magazines, discarded
litmus paper, and other rubbish in a eloset I came
upon a find which, temporarily at least, completely
knocked me out. This was in fact a bundle of in-
fant's garments, rather mussed and soiled and evi-
dently worn. For a space I sat, gazing at the tiny
garments with a strange mingling of horror, dis-
may, amazement and wonder. Had the ugly rumors
been true after all? Had ray old classmate gone
mad with his researches and had he actually sacri-
ficed an innocent child on the altar of science? If
not why should he have been in possession of these
garments? Where were the remains of the child
itself? And what had been his relations with the
others who had vanished? What terrible things
had occurred to cause them all to disappear? Surely,
I thought, no matter what events had led up to the
culminating destruction of the child, Dr. Hender-
son must have made notes of it somewhere. What-
ever he had done had beyond doubt been done in a
mistaken, a warped idea that it was in the cause of
science; that the means would be justified by the
end; and hence he would have been certain to have
recorded his theories, or the results of his experi-
ments. To solve the mystery I must find such notes,
and, abandoning all other work, I sought diligently
and feverishly for some note book, some pad or even
some scrap of paper which might explain every-
thing.

Of course, I realized, there was a possibility, even
a strong chance that he had destroyed the notes or
had taken them with him. The very fact that he
had disappeared, together with the others who I no
longer doubted had been implicated with him in the
crime, proved that they realized the enormity of
their deeds and hence would have destroyed any evi-
dence or records. But the fact that the garments
had been left so carelessly about caused me to think
that more conclusive proofs might also have been
overlooked. Moreover, Dr. Henderson, as I had
discovered already, was extremely absent-minded in
ordinary matters, and he also had had a habit of
jotting down notes on anything and everything that
came to hand. Hence, I reasoned, even if he or the

THE ULTRA-ELIXIR OF YOUTH

479

others had made away with the most important evi-
dences, there was more than an even chance that
they had overlooked or had completely forgotten
stray notes which would throw light on the matter.

It was slow work, studying the almost hierogly-
phic-like writing of my predecessor and examining
every scrap of paper, even the margins of leaves in
hooka and pamphlets, for what I sought. And for
hours my efforts were fruitless. At last, when I
had almost abandoned hope, I opened a small drawer
in a littered and dust-covered desk and made a sec-
ond and most surprising discovery. The drawer was
filled with the strangest collection of objects which
could possibly be imagined in the laboratory of a
scientist. There were infants' garments, bottles of
prepared foods, a nursing bottle, safety pins, a
rattle, various other objects requisite to the well-
fare of small children, and, what seemed to me most
important of all, a square, rather thick book which,
immediately I opened it I discovered was a diary.
Here, if anywhere, I felt, lay the solution of the
mysteries. The first entry was dated over three
years back, but a short perusal of the pages proved
that the diary had not been kept regularly or con-
secutively, and that for long periods, no dates had
been entered. It was, in fact, more of a journal or
note book than a diary, and almost feverishly I
turned the pages, glancing only at the occasional
dates, and to my delight found that the last dated
entry was September 14th, of the current year,
only a few days before the disappearance of Dr.
Henderson had been made known. Beyond ques-
tion, then, there would be references to the myste-
rious events, and turning back the pages, I set my-
self to the task of reading the vojume page by page.

AND as I did so I became more and more as-
tounded at what I found, for the indisputable
evidence of Dr. Henderson's writing proved that
the vanished biologist, whose whole life had been
devoted to science and proven facts, had believed in
the wholly unscientific and preposterous dream of
perpetual youth.

"I see no scientific reason why organic matter
should deteriorate with age," he had written in one
entry. "Age, in animals or plants, is merely the
decay of certain tissues or cells brought about by
various causes, most of which are unnatural, arti-
ficial or due to the abuse of nature's laws. I have
talked with E. on the subject, and she agrees with
me. If we admit Einstein's theory of relativity
then age is merely relative — in the universal scheme
of things the infant is as old as the senile centenar-
ian or vice-versa. Biologically there is no such
thing as old age. Growth, yes; the building up of
tissues by cells, yes; but the healthy, normal cell of
the aged plant or animal is indistinguishable from
the corresponding cell of the new-born infant or the
seedling plant. Scientifically endless youth or the
arresting of cellular decay may be impossible, but
so many known facts refute scientific possibilities
that I am beginning to lose faith in scientific laws."

A little later I came upon the following: "I have
cautiously sounded my class by dwelling lightly
upon the matter of arresting decay and producing
so-called perpetual youth. I judge several of the
young men were intensely interested as, after the

lecture, they remained and plied me with many ques-
tions. The subject opens up endless vistas. If the
breaking down of cellular tissues were possible,
death could be averted, except by accident, and prac-
tical immortality could be achieved. And what tre-
mendous accomplishments might be achieved by a
scientist, an artist, any intellectual man, if he was
assured of a virile, healthy existence for hundreds
of years; if for a century or more he retained the
energy, the brain power, the physical and organic
status of the prime of life.

"I believe this might be accomplished. E. (I had
already assumed that Dr. Elvira Flagg was the E.
referred to) is as greatly interested in the subject
as myself. In her practice she has opportunities to
study living beings in all stages of cellular decay or
age, and with physical and mental powers breaking
down through various causes. Her observations are
as valuable to me as are my biological experiments
to her. Several of my young men are also vastly
interested and we often discuss the matter together.
Perhaps the time has not yet arrived when man can
choose the age or physical state in which he elects
to remain, but some day it will be as ordinary an
affair as to select one's food or method of convey-
ance."

For several pages after this last entry Dr. Hen-
derson's diary omitted all reference to the subject,
and I began to think that his observations had been
wholly theoretical, and that he had not seriously
considered the matter. But in this I was grossly
mistaken, for once again the subject was the sole
topic of the notes.

"I believe that we are on the way to solving the
problem of arresting the deterioration of organic
matter when caused by the lapse of time," he had
written. "A regrettable accident has indicated the
path we should follow. Several weeks ago the huge
airship Colossus was destroyed by an explosion
when passing over the village of Emerson. One of
my young men who resides in the vicinity of Emer-
son mentioned a most curious and interesting phe-
nomenon which has occurred where the accident
took place. The health of the residents has greatly
improved ; several of the aged inmates of the County
Home have recovered full use of their limbs and
eyesight, and some ancient and dying trees have
shown unusual and most astonishing growth— put-
ting out new shoots and fresh leaves. I have visited
Emerson in company with E. and have verified all
these statements. Vegetation is far more luxuriant
in the area about the village than elsewhere, and E.
personally interviewed and examined a number of
persons, and she assures me that there are indisput-
able proofs of marked rejuvenation. We believe that
the QW gas with which the airship was inflated was
the direct cause of these interesting phenomena.
As workers in the laboratory where this gas is man-
ufactured have exhibited no signs of similar effects,
we can only assume that the explosion, which has
so far been inexplicable, altered the gas in such a
way as to produce some chemical compound which
has the power to arrest the ravages of age and to
cause rejuvenation in organisms. Unfortunately
the composition of QW is a closely guarded secret,
and the gas is not available for experimental pur-

4S0

AMAZING STORIES

poses! Could we only obtain a small amount of the
gas we might make astounding discoveries."

I was now as deeply interested in Dr. Henderson's
records as he had been in his visionary dream of
perpetual youth. The destruction of the Colossus
was still fresh in my mind; it had been a nation-
wide sensation, for the explosion, the cause of which
had never been found, had utterly destroyed the
entire crew of the immense craft. Neither could I
doubt the truth of Dr. Henderson's statements re-
garding the conditions which had followed the dis-
aster. But, I reasoned, this might have been due
to perfectly normal and easily explained causes
which the biologist in his enthusiasm had overlook-
ed. Was it not quite possible that the gas, or the
compounds arising from its explosion, had acted as
a fertilizer and had thus caused a sudden spurt of
vegetable growth about Emerson? And was it not
equally possible, and even reasonable, to suppose
that the disaster, the excitement attendant upon it,
and the shock of the explosion had caused a nervous
exhilaration or had acted as a stimulant to the in-
habitants, especially to the aged members of the
community, which would, temporarily, give them
new vigor and a false rejuvenation 7 Yes, unques-
tionably such was the case, for, I reasoned, had the
effects been lasting, had there been any marked and
unusual results from the explosion of the airship,
the press would most certainly have gotten hold of
it.

SUCH thoughts raced through my brain as I pe-
rused the succeeding pages of my predecessor's
journal, until once again, I found myself fascinated
by the record.

"E. has solved one of the obstacles," it began.
"Among her patients is a Mr. Burke, a wealthy mer-
chant who is under a deep obligation to her. She
has mentioned her desire to secure some QW gas
for an experiment of great medical and scientific
value and he has assured her that through political
friends he can secure some. If we obtain this I
shall endeavor to reproduce on a small scale such an
explosion as occurred at Emerson, subjecting aged
tissues to the resultant gases. The difficulty will
be to obtain the same effects. QW is theoretically
non-explosive, and I am now devoting all my spare
time to solving the problem of why the Colossus
exploded. In this work I have the invaluable assis-
tance of Montross, one of my students who has
shown unusual ability in chemical research work
and received his degree in that science last spring."

Evidently Dr. Henderson's problems occupied far
too much of his time to permit him to make regular
entries, or else nothing important enough to tran-
scribe occurred, for the next entry in the journal
was dated nearly two weeks after the foregoing,
and, as was so often the case, made no reference to
what had occurred in the interim.

"There is now no doubt in our minds that so-
called age may be arrested," he wrote. "My experi-
ment, 612A, has proved this. In a way, the explo-
sion was rather disastrous, for it destroyed much
valuable apparatus and quite seriously injured Mon-
tross. However, he is rapidly recovering and E.
declares that the amazing rapidity with which his
injured tissues are healing is due entirely to the

effects of the unknown chemicals released by the
breaking down of the QW gas. Evidently, too, the
effects of these are incredibly rapid, for despite the
fact that owing to the unexpected violence of the
explosion having destroyed the apparatus designed
to hold the resultant chemicals, the organisms I had
in readiness have shown truly remarkable signs of
rejuvenation. Indeed, E. and myself have felt the
effects. We both have more vigor, greater vital
force and greater clarity of thought than previously,
and yet there must have been a most minute quan-
tity of the chemicals produced by the explosion.
Montross declares that now we have solved the prob-
lem of breaking down QW we can unquestionably
produce the desired chemicals without resorting to
such a roundabout and dangerous method.

"It is a great pity that science is so hampered by
lack of funds. To secure the apparatus and chem-
icals required to carry on our experiments, and to
perfect them, it will be necessary to secure large
sums. Neither E., Montross nor myself possess suf-
ficient money, and to solicit funds from the univer-
sity or from others would be futile. We would be
scoffed at if we divulged the purpose for which we
require the money. I fear we will be forced to aban-
don further researches in this direction. What a
pity, when the results might be of such incalculable
benefit to mankind !"

Again there was a lapse, until under date of July
5th was the following: "Montross has paved the way
for carrying on the experiments. His uncle, a Mr.
Eedfleld, is a wealthy banker whose obsession has
been a fear of becoming a helpless, decrepit old man.
A few days ago he stated, in the presence of young
Montross, that he ^ould give a million if he could
retain all his faculties until his death. This gave
Montross an idea, and at the risk of being jeered at,
he related what we had done and suggested that
Redfield should finance our experiments. To his de-
light his uncle was intensely interested and ex-
pressed his willingness to do so on the condition
that he might be a witness of our experiments. I
have agreed to this, as had E. Her friend, Burke,
has also been taken into our confidence, and five of
my students have been enlisted in the cause. We
have agreed that what we do must be kept to our-
selves until we meet with success or failure, and as
E. puts it, we have formed a little scientific secret
society. We have no desire to let others know what
we are doing or to let the press reporters get hold
of the matter. Hence we meet more or less secretly
or in my laboratory where we are safe from prying
eyes or listening ears.

"Montross is entirely recovered and is working
diligently at his chemical preparations. Burke, by
the way, has been of inestimable aid, for he has_
managed to secure the formula for QW. Political '
graft after all has its advantages."

As I read on, I became more and more amazed,
more and more fascinated by the revelations of this
intimate journal of the missing biologist. Already
much which had been mysterious had been cleared
up. The bond which had linked Burke, the hard-
headed merchant and political boss, Redneld the
millionaire banker, Dr. Flagg the female physician,
Montross the instructor in chemistry, the five stu-
dents and Dr. Henderson, was explained. The rea-

THE ULTRA-ELIXIR OF YOUTH

481

son for the meetings of the ten was clear and, be-
yond question, all had seen fit to vanish for the
same reason. I had little doubt now that even that
reason wouid be divulged as I read on, and forget-
ting time, work and all else, I devoured the contents
of the journal. But what I found exceeded my wild-
est dreams and fascinated, astounded, fairly trem-
bling with excitement, I read the wholly incredible,
yet indisputably true story of the most amazing
events ever transcribed by human hands; a story
which, omitting the dates and irrevelant entries,
ran as follows:

"Montross has succeeded. He has separated over
twenty hitherto unknown chemicals from the QW
gas. Among these is an entirely new element which
he has named Juvenura and which he believes holds
the key to our success. Even if we fail, the dis-
covery of this element will make him famous. Burke
and Redfield are fairly crazy over the work. The
latter has put his entire fortune at our disposal. E.
has been untiring, and as soon as our labors are
crowned with success or we are convinced of the
futility of further investigations I shall make her
my wife. If we succeed, the vista before us is too
marvelous to realize; endless years of perpetual
youth together; never to grow old, never to lose
the freshness and beauty of her full womanhood,
never to lose my vigor, my intellect, my enthusiasm!
But we have all agreed not to keep the knowledge
of our success from the world. We have argued
at length on this. Burke and Redfield were at first
all for retaining the secret. Burke saw a marvelous
money-making opportunity in it, treating persons
for fabulous sums — millionaires he stated would pay
anything to retain their youth, while Redfield ar-
gued that if no one grew old the world would soon
be overcrowded and dire results would follow. E.,
however, pointed out that even if we could prevent
the ravages of time we might not and probably
would not be able to prevent the ravages of diseases
nor fatalities through accidents and that, youth
being more impulsive and reckless than maturity,
the percentage of accidents and disease would be
greater, while many persons would not care to avail
themselves of the treatment. Montross also pointed
out that the benefits derived by scientists and other
Intellectuals being able to carry on indefinitely
would more than offset any dangers of overpopula-
tion, and that, unquestionably, these men with their
discoveries would he able to solve any such problems
which might arise. He himself, he stated, would
devote his entire life to producing artificial foods,
thus reducing the areas essential to growing crops
and rendering more space available for industries
and housing. For my own part, I declared that it
would be extremely selfish to retain the secret, and
that we would, T felt sure, be heartily sick of youth
if we found ourselves still young while all our
friends and acquaintances were aging and our asso-
ciates through decades were to be yet unborn gen-
erations. We have also discussed the question of
our discovery producing immortality. None of us
believe this will be possible, and T do not think any
of us believe it desirabe. Burke is a devout Roman
Catholic; Redfield is a pillar of the Episcopal
church; E. is very religious and a member of the
Methodist church; Montross is an Episcopalian and

while 1 profess no particular religion I am a firm
believer in the omnipotence of the Creator and His
wisdom. I believe, too, in a future existence of some
sort, and neither the others nor myself would wish
to forego the chances of such a state. Moreover,
none of us, with the possible exception of some of
my young and ultra-modern students, believe that
man has the power to change the laws of Nature or
to accomplish anything in opposition to the will of
God. To prevent the visual ravages of time upon
the system would, we all agree, be no violation of
Nature's inexorable laws, whereas immortality
would bo in direct opposition to the entire scheme
of things. To increase the span of life, and to re-
tain the faculties of youth during that life, would
he a blessing, but to live on forever would be a

"We have carried on very extensive tests with va-
rious organisms, both vegetable and animal. We find
that, as Montross expected, the new element Juve-
num is the active principle, but we have met with an
unexpected obstacle. While the lower forms of life
respond to the treatment and become rejuvenated,
or do not age, yet they soon cease to function or die.
What a calamity it would be if man, in his desire
for youth, should be compelled to shorten his exist-
ence, to flit, like a butterfly, for a brief space and
then die while in the possession of the youth he
sought! Perhaps, after all, our lives as they are,
are preferable; perhaps old age has its advantages.
However, we feel that the trouble is not insurmount-
able, that by experimenting we can produce the
desired effects without the unfortunate results. . . .

U \XT® have nit Purely by accident we — for I
»V must give credit to my assistants, and espe-
cially to Burke who is the last man in the world one

would expect to make a discovery purely by

accident, I say, we have solved the problem. To
while away the time, Burke brought a radio receiv-
ing set to the laboratory. One of the receptacles
containing the organisms treated with Juvenum
was close to the set, and whereas all other treated
organisms died after a few days, those heside the
radio set continued to live and thrive with remark-
able vigor. Burke, oddly enough, was the first to
notice it, and called our attention to it. Johnson,
one of my students, is a radio enthusiast and pos-
sesses an intimate knowledge of the apparatus. He
declared that the electro-magnetic waves, or the
electrons from the tubes, must have been instru-
mental in producing the results, and we at once pro-
ceeded to experiment along these lines. Unques-
tionably Johnson was right. Organisms, both ani-
mal and vegetable, exposed to the vacuum tubes'
action and treated with Juvenum become rejuve-
nated and thrive prodigiously, whereas others sim-
ilarly treated, but kept from the tubes' influence,
expire rapidly. The question now is, do the re-
juvenated organisms retain their vigor and condi-
tion after a certain duration of exposure to the
tubes or is the action of the radio energy essential
in order for them to exist? . . .

"Perpetual youth is within our grasp! Once or-
ganisms are treated with Juvenum and subjected
to the vacuum tubes' action, they retain their vigor
and continue to live without aging. We now have

482

AMAZING STORIES

a number which for several weeks have remained
unchanged, yet which, under normal conditions,
would have died of old age long ago. We are now
ready to tent our methods upon higher forms of
life. Tomorrow we shall treat rabbits and guinea
piga, some potted plants and some birds. Montross
has an ancient toothless dog of which he is very
fond, but which he must destroy very i^non. He is
to try the effect of our treatment upon the beast.
E. has offered a parrot which has been for many
years in her family and which shows evidences of
extreme age. Johnson facetiously offered to steal
a decrepit cab horse and bring the creature to the
laboratory, while Burke declared the best subject
would be our octogenarian state senator, and Red-
field suggested that we try the treatment on the
local trolley line. We are all so elated that such
nonsense is forgivable, and we are all terribly in
earnest and are under such a nerve strain that we
must find an outlet for our feelings. That we are
on the verge of proving the epochal discovery we
have made, I am convinced, for microscopic exam-
inations of the cells and tissues which T have pre-
pared show undeniable proofs of marvelous rejuve-
nation and increased vigor and resistance. . . .

"We cannot believe our senses. Every experi-
ment has been a tremendous success. Three days
ago Montross's dog was a miserable half-blind,
toothless thing and today he is frisking about like
a puppy; he can see almost as well as ever and
teeth are sprouting from his gums. E.'s ancient
parrot is gay with the plumage of a young bird,
he talks and chatters constantly, and climbs about
like an acrobat. So marvelous were the results
that Burke, Redfield, Johnson and several of the
others insisted on taking the treatment despite
ray advice, for I fear there are possibilities which
we did not foresee and which may not be alto-
gether desirable. I had sought for means of re-
taining youth, but our discovery goes beyond that
and restores youth. In all probability further re-
searches and experiments will enable us to ad-
minister a treatment in such a manner that almost
any desired condition of maturity may be attained
and permanently fixed, bat at present we cannot
be sure how much of age will be wiped away and
how much of youthfulness will be restored. Earn-
estly I pointed out to Burke and Redfield that it
would be far from desirable or pleasant if, after
taking a treatment, they should be transformed to
beardless boys, irresponsible youngsters whom no
one would recognize. But they were adamant.
They argued that by taking a light treatment they
could test out the powers of the Juvenum, that as
they had made the experiments possible they
should be entitled to be the first to test the effects
of the discovery, and that they hadn't the slightest
fear of its restoring too much of their past youth.
Johnson and the others sided with them, and at
last, realizing, I fear a hit selfishly, that some one
had to be the first to take the test, T consented.

"But I insisted that only a very light, almost
superficial, treatment should be given, and to this
they consented. I have watched them carefully;
E. has kept accurate records of their pulse, respir-
ation and temperature, and we find that they
already show distinct signs of slight rejuvenation.

Johnson and the other young men. show it the
most markedly, but this is to be expected of course,
as their systems are more responsive and less de-
terioration of cells and tissues renders the action
of the treatment more rapid. . . .

"Everything is most satisfactory. Burke and
Redfield look like men of forty, and declare they
feel better than they have felt for years. Johnson
has the fresh color and spirits of twenty, and his
companions are in practically the same condition.
Today, Montross took the treatment, and E. in-
sists she will do so tomorrow. Of course, in that
case, I can do no less than follow, and yet, some-
how, I have a premonition that we have not yet
learned all the powers or peculiarities of Juvenum,
and that we have been over-hasty in submitting
ourselves to the tests. . . .

"A terrible thing has happened. My worst fears
have been confirmed. We have all taken the treat-
ment and we are all in the same awful predicament.

"For several days the animals treated remained
in the same state to which they had been altered
by the treatment. Then, to my horror and amaze-
ment, I noticed that the dog and parrot were show-
ing signs of growing constantly younger. The
cur was acting more and more like a puppy; the
parrot was losing its full plumage and was ac-
quiring pin-feathers. I hurried to the apartments
of Burke and Redfield and found both men in seclu-
sion. Burke, who had been a stout, florid man of
sixty had hecome unrecognizable as a young man
of thirty,— slender, freckle-faced and red-haired.
Redfield's alteration was even worse. From the
paunchy, gray-whiskered banker he had hecome
transformed Into a sallow- faced young man, and,
catching a glimpse of myself in a mirror, I dis-
covered that I, too, have lost ten years in appear-
ance. Almost too distraught to express my fears
I rushed madly to E.'s office. But instead of the
woman T had expected to wed I found a beautiful
girl who, outwardly at least, appeared no more
than twenty years of age. She, however, did not
share my fears. She was overjoyed at the recovery
of her youthful beauty and she was elated at the
change which had taken place in myself. In vain
I tried to explain to her that if the rejuvenation
process continued we would all he regarded as
mere boys and girls; that already Burke and Red-
field were afraid to appear before their employees.

"But she, perhaps because of her medical and
anatomical knowledge, argued that my fears were
groundless. We were, as I well knew, in full
possession of all the knowledge and experience we
had acquired during our lives. Regardless of
physical appearances we were mature, experienced,
and fully developed mentally, and, she added, un-
questionably the hanker and merchant, with their
youthful frame and vigor, could accomplish far
more than in their physically aged condition.

« A FTER a time I felt that perhaps she was
l\ right. But I still feared that the process of
rejuvenation might continue, that no one could fore-
tell when it would cease.

"The only thing to do was to devote all of our
energies to finding a means to control the action
of the Juvenum, and I summoned Montross and the

THE ULTRA-ELIXIR OF YOUTH

483

others, who had all leaped backwards for from ten
to fifteen years. I explained ray fears and the
necessity of finding some means to check or con-
trol the action of our discovery.

"For a few days the effects of the treatment ap-
peared to cease of their own accord, and no marked
physics] changes took place. Then, as if by magic,
the rejuvenation process took hold once more, and
in a few days Burke and Redfield had become
scarcely more than youths. Johnson was a mere
lad, while E. and myself, who had been the last
to take the treatment and who had taken far less
than the others, felt and looked like a youth and
girl of eighteen.. Burke and Redfield were beside
themselves. They had important business to at-
tend to, and already their absence from their
offices was causing uneasiness. All seemed to look
to me for a way out of their difficulties, and, with-
out effect, I tried to make them see that they were
the ones who had insisted when I had cautioned
and that, moreover, I had shown my faith in sub-
mitting to the treatment.

"Realizing that no one would recognize the banker
or the merchant, I suggested that they go to their
offices, put their business in order, and then re-
tire to their apartments until I had had an oppor-
tunity to carry on further tests of formula Mon-
tross and myself had worked out. . . .

"We are all lost. Nothing we can do will check
the effect of the Juvenum. E. and myself are so
changed that when, yesterday, we went to her
office to secure some things she wanted, her house-
keeper did not, recognize us. We have all been
obliged to purchase the garments of young people.
And Burke and Redfield are worse off than any of
the rest. Whether they received larger amounts
of Juvenum than the others; whether, as I sus-
pect, they surreptitiously treated themselves a
second time, or whether the Juvenum acts more
rapidly upon old persons, I do not know. But
yesterday when, after repeated calls by phone, I
got no reply and went to their apartments, I felt
that I must be going mad. Burke had become a
gawky boy of twelve and Redfield was unrecogniz-
able as a lad of fifteen. Both were frenzied, both
begged me to secure proper garments for them,
and both were indescribably pitiful objects to be-
hold—mere children with the brains, the intelli-
gence, the knowledge, the thoughts of grown, ex-
perienced men.

"The only redeeming feature of the day was my
marriage to E. We both felt that if we waited
longer no minister would marry us, fearing we
were under age, but our happiness we fear will
be short lived. We all know now what is to follow.
We all know that we are past human help unless
a miracle occurs. Ours is an agony almost beyond
endurance. The poor rejuvenated dog which Mon-
tross, poor fellow, offered in the cause of science,
has proven an object lesson to us, has brought
home to us the terrible consequence of attempting
to interfere with the plan of the Creator. The
creature is now a toothless, purblind puppy, while
the parrot is a fledgling, raucous-voiced and almost
naked. Did ever human beings face a like fate?
If we are to believe the evidences of our senses

we are slowly, but all too rapidly, growing con-
stantly younger. In a short time,— God knows
when, — we will be squalling, helpless babies!
Already Burke and Redfield are toddling about,
supporting themselves by chairs and burbling unin-
telligible words. Surreptitiously and at night E.
and I managed to kidnap them from their rooms
and bring them here. They were then boys of
eight. And by dint of threats, by argument and
through their own agony of suspense, I have man-
aged to gather all the others together here in my
laboratory. All I say, but Montr oas, Johnson and
two others are missing. What has become of them
we do not know. Perhaps they have committed
suicide, perhaps they have gone mad, perhaps
they have rushed madly away seeking to escape
the inexorable fate before them. . . .

"Such horror ! I feel that I must go mad. Were
it not for E. I would make away with myself. I
know now what has become of Montross, Johnson
and the others. I have found a note from Mon-
tross stating that he and Johnson had agreed to
make a supreme test, to make a brave effort to
avert the horrible fate to which we were doomed,
to strive to check the accursed Juvenum by taking
a stronger dose, in a hope, a mere chance that, like
some poisons, one treatment would offset the other.
What happened I know only too well. It is in-
credible! The thing is unthinkable, but true! The
dog, two days ago, was a feeble puppy; yesterday it
was a blind, newly-born, tiny thing; today it has
vanished! The parrot became a fledgling, yester-
day a round white egg appeared in its cage. Today
the cage is empty. Nature is being reversed !
With incredible speed we and all life subjected to
the damnable treatment of Juvenum, are progress-
ing backward. Beyond doubt Montross and the
others have already vanished, have already passed
back to the embryonic state, even to the unknown,
unsolved mysterious source whence comes all life.
My wife and I, of all the ten, remain as rational
human beings. Burke and Redfield are gurgling,
cooing, helpless babies whose wants occupy all of
our time. And my heart is wrenched each time I
look at my darling wife. No longer is she a woman,
no longer a budding girl. She is a slim wisp of
femininity perhaps twelve years of age, but still
possessing all her womanly instincts, all her knowl-
edge of medicine, all the thoughts, the longings,
the ambitions that were hers when, seemingly ages
ago, we first discussed the question of perpetual
youth.

"But bravely, uncomplainingly, she has borne the
ordeal which we are passing through. She has
never blamed me; she is as patient, as smiling as
cheerful as ever, though she knows that only a
few days remain before she, too, will be a helpless
infant.

"And the utter horror of it all, the most terrible
part of the whole affair, is that even to the last
minute, even though they crow and cry and drool
like normal infants. Burke. Redfield and the others
possess the intellects, the brains, the sensations
of their mature years. I can see it, and I shiver
with terror at the sight, for the agony of mind
which is theirs is stamped upon their baby faces.

484

AMAZING STORIES

ttv CAN scarcely bear to write. Rcdfield, Burke
Jl and the others have gone. Yesterday they
were there, tiny, red-faced, toothless, newly-born
babies, and today no trace of their presence re-
mains. And my wife! Aa I write, she who was
my beloved Elvira is creeping about the floor,
while I, the last of the ten to succumb to the
effects of our accursed experiments, sit at the
desk, torn with unbearable dread, with indescrib-
able horror at the fate which, so unconsciously, I
have brought upon my wife and the others. And
though I am writing this in the same hand which
I used when a full grown man, although I have
felt no change in my brain, yet I am but a youth,
a mere stripling, a beardless boy of perhaps a
dozen years. Were it not for Elvira, were it not
that until her last moment I must care for her,
I would follow the example of Montross and John-
son and would hasten my end by taking a double
dose of Juvenum. But instead, I have destroyed
everything. Every chemical, every formula, every-
thing to do with the damnable affair has been made
away with. Never shall the world know how to
do what we have done if I can prevent it. Nothing
shall be left that will be available for others. And
as soon as Elvira has drifted backward into that
unfathomable beyond whence all life comes, I shall
face the most terrible fate of all. No one will be
left to care for me. I shall be a helpless infant
and, must, I feel sure, go through the retro cess ion al
process to oblivion, for I long ago promised Elvira
that I would not take my own life, and, I feel sure,
I will not be granted the solace of starving to
death, for I am convinced that this whole horrible
nightmarish affair is but a reversion of life as
it has been for us; that time has been turned back,
as related to our own existence, that if we sur-
vived the perils of infantile mortality nothing can
prevent us from retroceeding in the same manner,
and that, as long as I did not starve to death while
an infant, I cannot hope to succumb to starvation
now that my infancy is to be repeated, even though
there are no loving hands to care for me.

"And another strange thing has happened. Of
late I have been aware of the presence of beings
about me. They are invisible, intangihle, but I
feel their nearness. Are they the spirits of my
companions? Can it be possible that, having gone
back beyond the stage of human form at birth,
they have been unable to return to embryonic
form, and are still filling the atmosphere about
me? . . .

"These will be my last lines. My beloved wife
has gone. To the very end she seemed happy. In
her baby eyes, as I tenderly, though clumsily fed
her, was the look of contentment; her baby mouth
smiled, and there was none of the agony which
contorted the infantile countenances of Burke,
Kcdficld and the others. This morning she faded
from sight and vanished, and I feel that some-
where she is watching me and waiting for me. I
am more resigned to my fate now. And for the
first time I have given thought to matters aside
from our own affairs. What, I wonder, will the
world think when it finds that ten members of its
population have inexplicably vanished into thin
air? No doubt there will be investigations; the

police will be called in; but only to make the mys-
tery the greater. What will they think when they
find the baby clothes which have served for Burke,
Rcdfield and even for Elvira in turn? Only I will
be without the tiny garments. I-ong before my
body is small enough for them I will be unable to
dress myself. I will shrink to an infant in the
clothes I have on, in the makeshift, cut-down things
I am wearing, and crawling from them, a naked
infant, I shall probably find them an interesting
plaything. Strange, now that my fate is so near
at hand, T am so calm, that I can see the humor of
the situation. But my great regret is that after
today I will be unable to record my sensal ions.
Even if my mind remains mature my childish hand
will be unable to hold a pen or form the letters.
I am now a child of eight or ten years in appear-
ance and physical characters, and I am forced to
sit upon a pile of books in order to write. Ever
since this morning I have realized T am dwindling.
I have been forced to add two bonks to the pile.
But hef.re I am unable to do so I must make some
preparations. I will place this journal among the
infant's garments and other things in a drawer
beyond my own reach, for otherwise, in my infantile
state, I may tear and destroy the onlv record I can
leave of the incredible events which have transpired
here in my laboratory. I can write no more. My
brain is still clear and filled with the thoughts of
a grown man, — yes even the scientific side nf my
intellect is unchanged. But I find the pen difficult
to hold, and my childish fingers can scarcely form
the characters I wish to write. And there is no
more to record. I have sought perpetual youth
and I have found it ; but such a youth 1 Youth re-
duced to the TTth degree, the utter youth of in-
visible existence, the youth of the pre-natal, inex-
plicable germ of life, perhaps the "

The journal ended in an undecipherable scrawl,
Tremhling, shaken, pale with the suspense of what
I had read, I sat staring, and was aware for the
first time that the vast laboratory was dusky with
approaching night. Then, with a stifled cry, I
sprang to my feet. An invisible, intangible pres-
ence seemed to be near. I could have sworn that
fingers clutched my clothes. With my scalp ting-
ling, terrified as I had never been in my life, I
fled from the room which, despite common sense
and reason, I felt sure was still tenanted by the
missing ten. And I-was even more terrified as
another thought flashed across my mind. How
did I know that some of the terrible element, Juve-
num, might not have remained in the laboratory?
How could I be sure that I had not Inadvertently
exposed myself to its effects? How could I be
positive that I, too, might not find myself going
backward, doomed eventually to pass out like a
snuffod-out candle? Never again, I determined,
would I enter the laboratory, I would resign the
next day, I would return to my former work, and,
for a space I knew, I would live in deadly fear of
signs of regained youthfulness.

But fate took a hand in my plans. That night
a disastrous fire swept McCracken College, the
laboratory with all its contents was utterly de-
stroyed, and to this day the true explanation of

THE ULTRA-ELIXIR OF YOUTH

485

the disappearance of Dr. Henderson and the nine
others has never been published.

And my fears proved groundless. I grew no
younger, as the months passed, and when, a year
after reading Dr. Henderson's amazing journal,
my wife found several gray hairs over my temples,
I felt sure that all danger of my having been

exposed to the perils of perpetual youth were
over.

And, as Dr. Henderson's diary has burned to,
ashes with the rest of his possessions, and I fear
that the vivid memory of its contents might grow
dim if I delay longer, I have decided that the
world shall know the truth.

The End

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QleCHEMICALMAQNET

ByVictor Thaddeus

486

THE CHEMICAL MAGNET

4S7

510W that Schirmanhever is dead, and
scientists the world over are seeking to
rediscover the secret of the extraordi-
nary chemical magnet which brought
him wealth and fame, it is only fitting
that I, who was his best friend, should tell to the
public what little I know about his life, his mar-
velous invention and his terrible end.

An unhappy love affair made of the generous
enthusiast a cold-blooded scientist, who subordi-
nated every emotion to the workings of his intel-
lect.

Schirmanhever talked little, and if he had any
dreams beyond those covering the conquest of that
hated world of practicality which in its greedy
reaching out for material prosperity had cast a
blight over his life, no one shall ever know of them.

Of all men of genius that I have known, Schir-
manhever was the least secretive about his own
ideas. He seemed to harbor no suspicions that his
ideas might be appropriated by others for their
own profit. Or perhaps the tremendous difficulties
lying in the path of accomplishment made him sim-
ply scorn the ability of others to succeed, where he
might fail. Then again, it may have been that he
talked far less freely to others than he did to me.
For that Schirmanhever did like me in his strange,
impersonal way, I can have no doubt — I call myself
his best friend because I know he had no other.

I first met Schirmanhever when he was living in
a tumbledown cabin on a beach north of New York
City. He was introduced to me in town one day
by a mutual acquaintance, and something about his
features — I think it must have been the brilliance
of his eyes — enlisted my interest immediately. He
was about thirty-five at the time, tall and thin, with
dark thick hair that fell low over his forehead and
straggled down his neck. He wore a shabby light-
weight overcoat, and looked generally unkempt.
Still, he had a striking personality. One felt his
frail, undernourished body was overengined with
mind. He seemed burn-
ing up with ideas, though ■ —

he said little. I grew to
like Schirmanhever, and
after my first visit I went
again as often as I could
manage it without seem-
ing to impose on his hos-
pitality. And in the light
of subsequent events
those visits of mine to his
cabin on that astonishing

beach made especially ■ i

vivid memories.

It was an astonishing beach. It represented the
last small stretch of coast near the great metropolis
to hold out against invasion by the summer hordes.
The cabin was situated among a low ridge of sand-
dunes separating the ocean from inland waters.
Between the dunes and the bay ran a long narrow
spit of marsh. It was because the ground here was
so marshy, and would have to be drained and filled
in before any building could be done, that this
stretch of beach had remained undeveloped; on
either side of it, two miles distant, were large shore
resorts. The beach, piled high with great timbers,

Stories
10 « find I
he plat in

will tell you

idly i

packing cases, cans, bottles, and other riff-raff flung
up by the tides, presented an astonishingly wild and
disordered appearance. At night, in both directions,
a million lights traced the distant coast line; to the
southwest, in clear weather, might be seen the
fainter glimmer of the Coney Island boardwalk, be-
yond the Hockaways.

Here Schirmanhever lived the year round. Dilap-
idated in appearance, the cabin was quite snug in-
side. A chunk stove kept it warm on the coldest
days, and wood cost Scliivm^nhwer nothing, as it
lay at his very doorstep on the beach in inexhaust-
ible supplies and the dunes held back the strong sea-
breezes. He bought his stores each week at a fish-
ing station across the bay.

But on my first visit to this isolated spot I became
curious to know how he solved the problem of water.
It seemed bad enough to have to tramp such a dis-
tance for food supplies, but how could he manage
to have so much water at hand? There was a suffi-
cient supply of water at the cabin, not only for
drinking and cooking, but for washing also. I was
too interested in talking to Schirmanhever, and
noting the equipment of that part of the cabin cur-
tained off from the rest which he called his lab-
oratory, to wonder about his supply of fresh water,
but no sooner was I alone on the train returning
to the city than I found myself speculating about
this. Did Schirmanhever have a well? I dis-
missed this conjecture as absurd since water from
any well sunk in those sand dunes would certainly
be quite undrinkable. But where did he get it?
Suddenly I remembered that the same problem
must have existed for the old hermit who had been
the cabin's previous inhabitant. This convinced
me that whatever the problem's solution might be,
it could not be very mysterious.

Still I was puzzled, especially when on my next
visit, I noticed that Schirmanhever, who happened
to be over on the mainland laying in supplies when
I arrived, was taking back nothing but provisions.

Later, in the cabin, I
■ i ii i n mentioned the water prob-

lem to him.

■rs, one, who for Amazing "Yes, water was old
.' l,r! "'l''' ■']'"■ - v "J ' Martin's problem," said
'''i-'f.'-f iii'd'ci (!•'•' in nir i : 'm- Schirmanhever. "He had
1 why should there be no to bring it over from the
logndf Any good chemist mainland, as I did at the
s- itoi iiji,*.xc(>m,- i^r^se, and beginning. It was the
'tm-y That u'c "know'yo'u 'will ma i n reason he had for
leaving here. Of course,"
he added, after a moment's
ii — i j if pause, "I don't have that

problem any more."
The last few words he said willingly, and his ex-
pression increased my interest. "How's that?" I
asked. "Have you found a nearer place to get it?"
"I don't get it," he answered. "I make it,"
"Oh!" I exclaimed, with a laugh at my own fool-
ishness. "Of course! You distill it."

Schirmanhever smiled again. "No," he said, "I
don't distil] it. But I make it just the same."

He got up to open the chunk stove, and throw in
another piece of wood. Outside a strong raw wind
was blowing, rattling the sashes of one of the small
windows. Even though you could not see it, you

AMAZING STORIES

sensed that vast expanse of nearby ocean over which
the gale was driving. And I asked:

"You make it out of ocean water?"

"Yes, out of ocean water," he replied.

HE said nothing more at the time. Subse-
quently, when through our general conversa-
tions I had got an idea of the nature of his investi-
gations, he was less reserved. I knew then that
he had delved very profoundly into the nature of
chemical reactions, particularly those of solubility.
He had the sort of mind that sees things always
from the imaginative viewpoint, that never allows
imagination to become smothered beneath technical
and mathematical detail. He was able to arrive
at an actual picture of molecular processes, and
for this reasOn he was able to make his tremendous
discoveries.

One day, drawing back the curtain of his labora-
tory, he picked up a beaker, filled it with water, and
asked me to drop some table salt into it. When I
had done so, he said:

"That wasn't much trouble, was it? But what
a lot of trouble to get that salt back again— I mean
by evaporation. There should be an easier way,
shouldn't there?"

I replied I thought there should be. Schirman-
hever now placed a clean sheet of white paper on
the bench. On the paper he put a handful of sand
that he had picked up outside. With the sand he
mixed up several pinches of iron filings.

"Now," he asked, "do you know any easy way of
getting those filings back again?"

"Well," I said, "if you had a magnet—"

"Exactly!". He produced one, and drew the
filings out of the sand, scraping them off the mag-
net into a little separate pile. Then he looked at
me. "By my process I can draw salts out of water
just as easily as that magnet draws iron filings out
of the sand. Let's say I've invented a chemical
magnet."

He smiled to himself, and added, "That's an in-
accurate way of putting it, of course, but it gives
the imagination something to feed on, which is the
main thing. What I have devised is a way of get-
ting salts out of water without having to use any
energy. No heat under boilers, no electric current.
As simple as that," he snapped his fingers. "And
why shouldn't it he easy? There's very little energy
change when most salts are dissolved in water. In
fact, what energy change there is is usually to the
good — the water is cooled off a little by the addi-
tion of the salt, so that there should be energy
given out, not taken in, when you get the salt back
— and there is."

He glanced at one corner of his laboratory where
there stood a queer closet-like arrangement with
pipes leading in and out— evidently a casing around
some concealed apparatus. "Want to see it work?"
he asked.

I nodded. I had noticed that corner of the lab-
oratory before, and half-guessed its significance.
But this was the first time Sehirmanhever had of-
fered any information about it. Now he picked up
a pailful of sea-water, and poured it into a large
funnel that protruded upwards from the wooden
easing. When the water had all vanished into the

interior he came around to the front of the casing
and turned a valve. A moment later a bucket he
had placed on the floor began filling up. Sehirman-
hever, lifting the bucket so that the water would
flow noiselessly down the side, motioned to me to
listen. I heard in the interior of the apparatus a
soft, continuous sound similar to that which might
be made by tiny grains of something slipping down
a chute. When the flow of water had stopped, the
bucket being nearly full, Sehirmanhever lifted a
dipperful of it up to my lips — it was as fresh pure
water as I have ever tasted. At the same moment
he held up for my inspection a miniature bin that
he had drawn out of the interior of his apparatus;
its floor was covered with several inches of a whit-
ish salt.

"Now," he said, pouring the contents of the little
bin into the bucket of fresh water, "you see before
you the pailful of sea-water again."

The whole process had taken so short a time —
scarcely more than a couple of minutes— and its
operation had been so noiseless, no sound coming
from the interior of the machine except that little
whispering noise made by the settling salt, that I
could only stand amazed.

"You mean to say," I exclaimed, "that that water
I drank" — and I looked at what remained in the
dipper — "was some of the sea-water — and that
that salt you showed me " '

"It was," answered Sehirmanhever. "The very
same sea-water. My apparatus in here," he tapped
the wooden casing, "had simply divided it into its
two components — the pure water and the dissolved
salts."

"And it got it all out in that short time?"

Sehirmanhever smiled at the incredulity in my
face. Then he frowned. 'Tfes, it got it all out, and
that's my trouble. That water 1 you tasted was pure
as rain water. But my process won't select yet.
It pulls salts and suspended matter out in one lot.
The hardest part of my job — that of developing
selective attraction for the various chemicals in so-
lution, in the same way you might have different
magnets for iron, copper, silver, gold and so on, —
is still before me. Indeed, I don't know whether
I'll ever be able to solve that problem. And if I
don't — " His brilliant, feverish eyes stared
straight into mine, and I read in them the end of
the sentence — that if he didn't, all the knowledge
he had acquired thus far would die with him.

This was the thing that astounded me. Once I
realized Schirmanhever's invention actually would
extract salts from solution with such ease, it
seemed to me the most marvellous scientific achieve-
ment of the century. If he stopped at this point, he
had only to commercialize his process to make an
immense fortune for himself. But Sehirmanhever
seemed to think he had accomplished nothing as
yet. His whole being was wrapped up in making
the process the entirely perfect thing he had
dreamed it.

"There!" he would exclaim, gesturing dramatic-
ally towards the leagues of ocean, "just look at
the immensity of it ! A greater storehouse of min-
erals than you'll find in all the mines of the earth
put together. All the metallic and non-metallic ele-
ments in it in some shape or form. Vast Mother
Ocean, covering the greater portion of our planet,

THE CHEMICAL MAGNET

489

miles deep in places, and into which, sooner or
later, everything gets washed! All the metals,
even one of the most precious — gold. Yea, gold in
undreamed of quantities I Scarcely even a trace by
analysis, but tons and tons when you have an in-
exhaustible reservoir to comb it out of. ■ When the
whole ocean is your mine!"

That word gold would make his eyes take on a
greater brilliance. I could see he craved power,
wanted it more than anything in the world. More
than three years had passed now since I first met
Schirmanhever, and he was working night and day
to overcome that problem of selection and also to
speed up his process of extraction. For, miracu-
lously quick as this seemed to me, it was not nearly
quick enough to suit Selnrmaiihever. He explained
how, with the millions of tons of sea-water he
would have to run through his apparatus in order
to get appreciable amounts of the precious chem-
icals he wanted most, there could not, if it was to be
a success, be any appreciable delay in the free flow
of the current. At present, though he had greatly
perfected the extraction during the past few years,
the separation imposed a small but definite drag
on the moving liquid. This he was seeking to
eliminate.

MORE than once, during this period, I doubted
Schirmanhever 's sanity. Haggard and wild-
eyed, his unkempt hair falling around his face, his
ragged clothes flapping on his thin body, he had at
times a positively sinister air. Watching him as
he paced the beach, muttering to himself, and cast-
ing hungry glances seawards, I wondered if he was
-really in his right mind. With all that driftwood
piled chaotically on the sand around him, he had
the appearance of a lone survivor of some tremen-
dous wreck, driven crazy by solitude and privation,
desperately watching the horizon for a sign of
smoke or sail. Years later, I was to 'watch him
pacing in a similar manner another far-distant
beach — a beach more white and dazzling than this
one, the very calm of whose tropic beauty was to
make more dreadful that awful scene of Sehirman-
hever's final disintegration. Then Schirmanhever,
the man who had made his dreams come true — too
true, alas ! — -did really go mad.

It occurred to me sometimes that this story of
a chemical magnet might be only his madness. For,
remember, that while I saw him put sea-water into
the machine, and take fresh water and salt out, his
word was my only proof that the latter were the
products of the former. Though Schirmanhever
did not hesitate to discuss with me, the general
theories underlying his investigations, 'he never
spokrj of the details of his process. He frequently
left the curtains of his laboratory undrawn, so
that he could talk to me as he worked, but at these
times the apparatus was always hidden from view
by its wooden casing, and he was obviously only
engaged in experiments of minor importance;
whenever he was working on the apparatus itself,
which I could tell by the sound of the casing being
dragged aside, the curtains were always drawn,
and tied. I began to wonder if inside that casing
there really teas any apparatus, or whether it was
only a trick arrangement with which Sehirman-

hever's overstrained mind practised a grotesque
self-deception. At last, curiosity getting the better
of all sense of decency, I took advantage of a mo-
ment when he had gone down to the ocean ■ for
water, to slip into the laboratory and examine the
machine.

Schirmanhever had been in the laboratory for
over an hour with the curtains drawn. He had
evidently had to interrupt an experiment to fetch
more water, for he had left hurriedly, in his haste
failing to fasten the curtains. I guessed I should
find the machine exposed to view — if there was any
■ — and I was right. The casing, hinged at the back,
stood open, revealing a short, thick cylinder of
metal, like a fat water boiler. Except for this cyl-
inder, and the pipes leading in and out, the space
inside the casing was absolutely empty. On the
cylinder a warning, "Hands off ! Danger 1" was
painted in large red letters.

Staring at the cylinder, I realized I hadn't
learned much. Either the cylinder was empty, or
within it was safely concealed all the vital mech-
anism of Schirmanhever's process. And the cylin-
der apparently had no opening through which the
eye could penetrate its interior. Then I noticed
something I had missed at the first glance, a small
shutter at the top which evidently protected just
such an observation point as I was in search of.
Reckless of the red warning on the cylinder, I
reached out to draw the shutter aside, at the same
time stooping to put my eye to the opening.

My hand was grasped in mid-air — Schirman-
hever stood beside me. He had 3een me through
the window and returned quietly. Instead of be-
ing angry, as I expected, he brushed aside my con-
fusion and apologies with the mere remark:

"You wouldn't have discovered anything, and you
might have killed yourself."

He closed the casing until I had left the labora-
tory, then drew the curtains behind me, and re-
sumed his experiment. He seemed to understand
perfectly that no motive worse than curiosity had
prompted me to violate his hospitality. This inci-
dent, indeed, led him to speak more freely about his
process than he had done before. He explained
how, like the French 75-mm. field-piece, the secret
of whose recoil mechanism is safeguarded against
detection by the mechanism blowing up and de-
stroying itself as soon as tampered with by inex-
pert hands, his invention would also explode if any-
one but himself tried to examine it. He seemed
to read my thoughts about the curious simplicity
of what I had seen— only that cylinder, with the
pipes leading in and out.

"You were surprised because you saw nothing
complicated," he said. "You expected the aston-
ishing and the intricate. Why weren't there any
wires suggesting electricity? Well, inside that cyl-
inder it isn't, of course, quite so simple as it is on
the outside, but you'd be surprised if you knew
what simple apparatus the cylinder does contain,
nevertheless. Simple to your way of thinking, that
is. Simple and empty in just the same way that
the interior of an automobile would look simple
and empty to a person of olden times who was
hunting everywhere for the horse that made the
automobile move. Simple and empty as an electric

+90

AMAZING STORIES

wire carrying current on a million-volt circuit
would seem to people who didn't know anything
about electricity, who never dreamed what power
was flowing silently along that little wire. My
process is simple because it depends on an entirely
new principle. It's a principle as different from
any other in the world as, for instance, in the field
of vision, the color red is different from the color
blue. And that's about all I can tell you about it,"
he finished with a smile, "except from our previous
talks you may be able to guess that it's a principle
depending, not unlike electricity, upon the mys-
terious laws which control atomic and molecular
structure."

His lips twitched as he smiled. It was one of
our last talks together— before he went away.
Schirmanhever had grown very thin and haggard.
He was experimenting against time. For he had
only a few months longer to live in the cabin. At
last this stretch of beach so long neglected by de-
velopment companies was to be improved. A great
dredge had arrived on the bay side and was filling
in the land. Surveyors were staking out the marsh
into streets and lots. A line of telegraph poles
sprang up. Schirmanhever watched these opera-
tions with a dark look of hate. It was the world
of practicality pursuing him even into the solitude
of his wild home — driving him out. He had been
given notice by the development company that he
could not occupy the land later than the beginning
of the next summer.

(it TE has lived here for six years. Has he ac-
J^l tually accomplished anything during this
period?" I used to ask myself. The men working
for the development company plainly regarded him
aa a crazy freak, and I wondered if they weren't
right. Did he really have anything to show for the
labor of all these years? Or was he simply a man
obsessed with an idea?

Then one day the impossible happened. When I
arrived at the eabin, Schirmanhever told me he
had inherited a fortune. A rich uncle — on his
father's side Schirmanhever was of German de-
scent, on his mother's Irish — had just died, and
left his wealth to him. Schirmanhever told me the
news without excitement. I confess I would have
doubted his word, except that the arrival of a stout
lawyer, puffing from the exertion of the long
trudge, and with his shoes full of sand, supplied
an incontrovertible proof. I thought then that
Schirmanhever's troubles were over— that the loss
of the cabin would be of no importance to him, as
he now had the means to equip a more comfortable
laboratory in a far more convenient location. But
Schirmanhever stayed on in the cabin, apparently
determined to wind up his investigations where
he had started them. Perhaps the fact that good
fortune had come his way only when he could al-
most do without it, made him the more bitter. His
glances in the direction of that big dredge busily
filling in the swamp, of those steam shovels tear-
ing at the sand dunes, held the same personal an-
tagonism. But one day when I visited him, he
seemed calmer than ever I had seen him before.
And as the launch was carrying me away, he called
after me in a peculiar tone that seemed to carry

with it, a strange presentiment, "Well, good-bye!"

It was the last time I was to see Schirmanhever
for many months. When I next visited the island
he was gone. The abandoned cabin was being torn
down by workmen who speculated jokingly on the
use that had been made of the fragments of ap-
paratus and glassware left behind. The surveyors
were shooting the line of a road that would pass
straight through the site of the cabin. Watching
it crumbling beneath the blows of sledge and ham-
mer, I got a sudden sharp sense of loss. I walked
along the beach, picking my way among the debris
cast up by the sea, wondering if Schirmanhever
would write, or if he had gone out of my life for-
ever. So two years went by.

Meanwhile all my suspicions about the non-
existence of his chemical magnet, as he had called
it, seemed confirmed. I watched the newspapers
and scientific journals for some startling report of
the great new discovery. I re-visited the island,
and its progressive appearance— sidewalks were
already down, and carpenters hammering on sum-
mer cottages everywhere — made the past seem a
dream. I remembered that last glimpse of Schir-
manhever standing on the shore growing smaller
as the launch sped for the mainland, and I felt a
little hurt that that casual "good-bye" had been the
only warning given me of his departure. And more
than once, the absurdity of his having accomplished
anything momentous in that makeshift little build-
ing by the sea occurred to me, though at the same
time I could not but recall that the early investiga-
tions of Steinmets and other great scientists had
been conducted in equally humble surroundings.

During this period of silence I had in my keep-
ing one little thing to give reality to the vanished
Schirmanhever and his splendid aspirations. It
was a small scrap of paper, the beginning of a let-
ter I had found in the sea grass on that morning
when the cabin was being torn down. On it were
the words :

"Dear Anne: At last, after all these years, I
have. . . ."

The writing was Schirmanhever's, and he had
evidently been unable to go any further, or else
had discarded and thrown away this first attempt at
a letter to the woman who had rejected his love.

It was about four years after Schirmanhever's
disappearance that I suddenly found his name on
everyone's lips. Almost overnight, it seemed, he
had acquired international renown. The story of
his marvellous ehemical discoveries leaped to the
front page of the newspapers. I read of the huge
plants he had built both on the east and west coasts
which now by some extraordinary secret process
were producing in abundance almost every known
chemical. The four years of delay he had appar-
ently utilized to adapt his process to large-scale
production. At any rate, the name Schirmanhever
was now certainly one for the man in the street to
conjure with. It was rumored he had actually
found a way of transmuting sea-water into gold.
It was said this Schirmanhever was on his way to
becoming the richest man in the world.

The events of the next few years are history, so
I shall pass over them briefly. We all remember
Schirmanhever's first great industrial triumph, his

THE CHEMICAL MAGNET

491

breaking up of the potash monopoly, which after
the world war had reverted to the Kali-syndicate;
how Schirmanhever's American plants supplied
potash to the home markets at half the price of
the foreign product imported from the great
Strassfurt deposits; hi3 development of those
strange and stupendous floating hulks, known aa
the Magnet Fleet, whieh manufactured their car-
goes of precious chemicals from ocean water on
the journey between ports; how Germany's pre-
eminence in the field of industrial chemistry waned,
all that nation's achievements in building up the
synthetic dye industry fading to nothing beside the
colossal accomplishments of the young American
scientist; the revolutionary shift of industry from
land to ocean, beginning a new epoch in the history
of civilization, with the radical alterations it neces-
sitated in the whole economic life of the world;
the award to Schirmanhever of the Nobel Prize
and his rejection of it; the abortive attempt of the
nations to combat Schirmanhever '3 accumulation
of ocean gold by establishing an international paper
currency; the sharp drop in worlH-wide prosperity
as soon as Schirmanhever ordered production to
ceaae at all his plants and popular opinion forcing
the powers to come to terms; the passing of pov-
erty everywhere as the hitherto untouched re-
sources of the ocean — that ocean which covers
three-fourths of the earth's surface, and has a vol-
ume of three hundred and fifteen million cubic
miles — began to be exploited on a gigantic scale.
And Schirmanhever's prestige and power increased
until he waa virtually dictator of world affairs.
We were told of the many deaths resulting from
attempts to discover the secret of his chemical mag-
net — how the Neptune, the largest vessel in the
Magnet Fleet, tampered with by engineers seeking
to uncover the mystery of its vital operations, blew
up in dock at Hoboken, killing a hundred men and
wrecking the nearby piers.

ALL this, I say, has become history. Let me
come then, without further delay, to that
final and fatal period of Schirmanhever's career in
which I was again destined to have a share.
Throughout the years of his success our meetings
had been few, but we kept in touch-with each other.
When I had at last seen his name in the papers
after that long interval of silence, I met Schirman-
hever in New York City; he told me very briefly
how busy he had been commercializing his process,
and sketched some of his future plans. Later we
met again in New York several times, also in Lon-
don, Paris and Berlin. Needless to say, every min-
ute of Schirmanhever's time during these years
was priceless; his waiting rooms were thronged
with financiers, scientists, and reporters requesting
an interview; but I had only to give my name in
order to be admitted immediately. There waa a
look of genuine pleasure on his face as, putting
aside for the time being the enormous weight of
business resting on his shoulders, he rose to greet
me ; with the world at his feet he seemed to regret
his past obscurity, to long to be able to return to
it. Once, glancing at me strangely, his eyes flash-
ing their old excitement, he started to make some
suggestion, but after a few words broke off to a

mutter, "No, I'm not quite ready yet — I must wait
a little longer I" Then one day I received that mem-
orable telegram requesting me to come immediately
to San Francisco. And a week later I was on
Schirmanhever's yacht with him bound for that
lovely little island in the Pacific which fate had
decreed only one of us should ever leave alive.

Arrived at the island, an exquisite pearl of trop-
ical beauty, with great feathery palms swaying
high in the sky over a white beach terminating in
a coral reef, where the aurf thundered night and
day, the yacht was dismissed, the captain receiv-
ing orders to proceed to Honolulu. A date, sev-
eral months distant, was set for the yacht's return
to the island. A comfortable bungalow, well
stocked with provisions, had been built on the
island, but Schirmanhever and myself were the only
inhabitants. Anchored off the island was a float-
ing laboratory, in general design like a miniature
vessel of the Magnet Fleet, whieh Schirmanhever
inspected on the first day of our arrival.

That he had come to this remote spot to push
his investigations into some mysterious realm of
science, whieh even his genius had not yet ex-
plored, waa known to me by now. But the exact
nature of this research he had not told me. I
could only guess from his suppressed excitement
during the cruise that he considered all his previ-
ous discoveries of negligible importance compared
with those he was now about to attempt. Once
settled or the island, he was soon spending all his
hours in the floating laboratory. At the beginning
I was allowed to come aboard with him, but a day
came when he put a atop to my visits. It was
about this time that Schirmanhever, while we sat
together on the veranda of the bungalow, gave me
my first cue to the problem he was working on.

After briefly recapitulating his past accomplish-
ments — the invention of the first chemical magnet
that indiscriminately drew all salts out of solution,
later the perfection of the process to leave in solu-
tion the sodium chloride of little value, and only
draw out the more precious potassium, iron, cop-
per, aluminum, nickel, lead, barium, manganese,
silver and gold salts, the iodine compounds, phos-
phates, and radioactive minerals, and these not In
a mixed mass, but each chemical pulled separately
out of solution by its own individual magnet, in a
pure state — he came to his latest idea, that of de-
veloping a chemical magnet of super-strength,
which would be capable of dragging out of sea-
water hitherto unknown chemicals — chemicals of
which the ocean held only such an infinitesimal
trace that no ordinary method of analysis could de-
tect them.

"Chemicals," said Schirmanhever, "which may
be tremendously more powerful and mysterious
than the radioactive minerals, and which may be
possessed of amazingly new and vital properties^
which may, who knows, have actually led to the
origin of "

He broke off. At the time I did not grasp the
true meaning of what he said. I only had a vague
but distinct sense of danger. Perhaps it was the
warmth of the tropic night, and Schirmanhever's
glowing eyes close to mine, the black outlines
against the starlit sky of those tall palms rem-

AMAZING STORIES

iniscent of daya when the whole of the earth was
a vast fecund jungle.

"Won't there be a risk in such experiments?" I
asked. "If such chemicals do exist, and you collect
them in any quantity, mayn't they have a frightful
effect on the human body?"

"Very likely," answered Schirmanhever, but the
excitement in his voice proved how little he cared.
He added, "There's always a risk in the Unknown."

From now on he grew pale with a dreadful pal-
lor. He lost his appetite. He had trembling fits
that made me fear he had caught some tropical
fever. I saw him emerge at intervals from the
interior of the floating laboratory waving his arms
before him as though to push hack an insufferable
heat. He paced the white beach, muttering to him-
self, and gesticulating. One day he shouted:

"I've found it at last — the,Secret of Life! I've
got the thing that first brought Life into exist-
ence ! I've got it there, out there .'" He pointed to
the floating laboratory. "That much of it!" He
cupped his hands. "And before I'm through I'll
have this much of it!" He threw out his arms in
a wild gesture that seemed to embrace the entire
horizon.

A thrill of horror shot through me. Suddenly I
realized the truth of why Schirmanhever was wast-
ing away — remembered my casual suggestion of
that night, forgotten next morning. Something
deadlier than poison was devouring him. I seized
his arm, tried to prevent him from going out to
the boat again. Schirmanhever fought himself
loose, and the expression in his eyes as he leaped
away told me he was mad, utterly mad.

THE next week was a nightmare. Schirman-
hever, with the cunning of madness, slept on
the boat now, fearing I would detain him if he re-
turned to the bungalow. But he came on shore
stealthily and in the moonlight I saw him several
times pacing the beach, tottering along in a queer
way like a drunken man. At last I could stand it
no longer. I resolved, even at risk of my own life,
to make a trip to the floating laboratory, find out
what he was doing there, and bring him forcibly
back to shore.

I set out one evening in the dusk. As I put foot
on the deck of the boat, Schirmanhever emerged
from a hatchway. He was gasping, his eye3 were

maniacal, but at sight of mo he seemed to pull him-
self together. With a convulsive effort he put his
hands to his head, and in that instant 1 believe he
realized he was dying. Turning, he staggered back
down the steps into the interior of the vessel, did
something to the machinery, then appeared on deck
again holding a large platinum dish containing a
curious salt that glowed with a pale sea-green
phosphorescence. I had one glimpse of this strange
substance, then SchirmLinhever had flung the dish
into the ocean, which swallowed it with a slight
hiss. In one final moment of sanity Schirmanhever
grasped my hand, cried hoarsely, "Go ! Don't wait
a minute! Get back to the shore right away, be-
cause this" — his nerveless fingers slipped away
from mine, to indicate the boat we were standing
on — "won't be here more than a few seconds." Then
he collapsed on the deck, dead.

An uncontrollable panic seized me in the face
of that prostrate body, that dreadful, ominous
silence by which I was surrounded, and springing
back into the skiff, I rowed madly for shore.
Scarcely was my foot on land than there was a roar
behind me, and the floating laboratory split apart
into burning fragments, which an instant later was
swallowed by the water. After more than a month
of frightful solitude, the yacht returned and car-
ried me back to America. Subsequent develop-
ment are known to all— how, one by one, Schir-
manhever's plants ceased to function, as though in
the chemical magnets there were some vital ele-
ment, corresponding to an electric battery, which
needed renewal after a certain number of years,
and the secret of restoring this energy had been
known only to him. Frantic endeavors are still be-
ing made to rediscover Sch i rmanhover's secrets, in
order once again to infuse vitality into that great
ocean industry which now lies idle. And — most in-
teresting of all to me are the many speculations in-
dulged in by scientists upon the nature of those
mysterious elements which caused Schirmanhever's
terrible end, until today it is generally recognized
that Schirmanhever actually did manage to extract
from the ocean water in an appreciable quantity —
it was that greenish phosphorescent substance in
the platinum dish, undoubtedly — certain rare but
exceedingly complex and powerful chemicals
which, millions of years ago, when the earth was
all ocean, first brought life into being.

The End.

The Master Mind of Mars

By EDGAR RICE BURROUGHS

A New Story by the Master ot Scientific don

also

The Face in the Abyss
By A. MERRITT

{See Inside Front Cover)

HICKS' INVENTIONS luith a KICK

'By Henry Hugh Simmons

The Automatic Apartment

Author of "Hicks' Self-Serving Dining Table."

mayhem to
I thought
mded thing

bombarded with every
irtle soup to Limburg-
y kind of liquid from
auce, with my clothes
njured dignity, I could
have . . . Well, no matter.
Here I was walking by
Hicks' side and listening
to his conversation, bound
for his home to inspect
another one of his auto-
matic inventions. I was
even offering him one of
my best cigars !

"The reason I came to
see you first," Hicks was
saying, "is because I know
you are capable of judg-
ing a thing objectively.
Few people can. Not one
of that group that was

49+

AMAZING STORIES

with us the night of that . . er . . unfortunate little
trouble with the Automatic Dining Table can do so.
They simply washed their hands of that invention
and of me. Yet the dining table is being put on the
market now. We have a company organized and
will soon have our factory equipped. Accidents will
happen with any invention when it is being tried
out. Think what the automobile was like twenty
years ago! Eut I can't convince that crowd, and
unfortunately they are my best friends, — or at least
they were once."

So Hicks' talk went on, and by the time we had
arrived at his house I had promised him to
straighten everything out for him with his relatives
and friends and to persuade them all to come and
inspect his new invention, though I had not as yet
seen it myself. Perhaps that will give you some
idea of Hicks' powers of conversation. But here
we were at his house, a three-story affair of many
rooms. We climbed the stairs and presently we
found ourselves in a living room of moderate di-
mensions, pleasantly decorated and neatly and ele-
gantly furnished.

"Looks like an ordinary living room, eh?" asked
Hicks.

"Like a more than ordinarily pleasant one, I
should say," I replied, allowing myself to slip into
one of the several overstuffed chairs.

"And yet, O'Keefe, this room is as unlike an
ordinary room as a hen's egg is unlike a golf ball,"
said Hicks. "Thi3 is room Number One in my
Fully Automatic Apartment."

"And how does this room Number One in your
Fully Automatic Apartment," I said in jocular
tone, "differ from any other? Surely you are not
trying to kid me into believing that there is any-
thing unusual about it?"

"No, I am not trying to kid you," Hicks replied
with rising dignity. "I merely state a fact when
I say it is different. And that difference consists
in the circumstance that this room is self -cleaning,
self-sweeping, self- arranging. Possibly it has
escaped the notice of your astute mind," he con-
tinued in a tone slightly tinged with irony, "that
there is a push button board near this door." With
this he indicated a small board neatly done in scin-
tillating glass and with a row of mother-of-pearl
push buttons disposed on it. "Possibly also," Hicks
went on, "you have not noticed several other
peculiarities. But I will now let action show, not
words," and rising, he pressed one of the buttons
on the switchboard.

IMAGINE my surprise when the chair in which
I sat, together with a large rocker near me and
the table upon which I had just deposited my hat,
suddenly began to move, and in another second had
traveled half way across the room,' all in the same
direction, leaving a swath several yards wide
lengthwise of the room free and clean of all furni-
ture. Before I had time to recover, another sur-
prise topped this one. At the end of the room a
low grating such as commonly covers the register
for hot-air systems suddenly swung open and there
emerged what for a brief, startled moment I men-
tally put down as a fierce animal with a bushy tail,
but in which a second later I recognized a suction

sweeper with bag attached. This sweeper evi-
dently had a mind of its own, besides considerable
speed, because without any visible help, it hastily
proceeded along the wall in a straight line and, ar-
rived at the opposite end of the long room, moved
Bidewaya by its own width and retraced its way,
keeping in a strictly straight line. Before my be-
wildered gaze, this mechanical animal came and
went along the floor until it nearly grazed the
chairs. I was just about to stutter a few words of
bewilderment w r hen the machine, arrived at its
starting point, suddenly halted. There was a click
and a purr, and the entire mass of furniture^"Viow
crowded to one side of the room, started to move,
my chair carrying me along; and lo! in a jiffy it
all was lined up along that side of the room which
had just been swept.

"How does it strike you, old man?" The voice
of the inventor seemed to come from afar, so dazed
was I.

"Well, I'll be dashed," was all I managed to stut-
ter as I wiped the sweat off my forehead. And
again that diabolically clever, superhuman-minded
carpet sweeper started on its methodical way, nor
did it stop until it had completed its work and every
inch in the room had been gone over. As it neared
the wall, another door, similar to the one from
which it had appeared, swung open, the machine
entered, and with a click both doors swung shut.
At once there was another movement among the
furniture, and those pieces which had last moved
out of the way returned to their original position,
until the entire room was again neatly arranged.

The inventor struck a match and lit a cigarette
while I wiped the perspiration off my face. "Well?"
he inquired casually, between two puffs of hi a
cigarette.

My voice came back to me. "Hicks," I said, "I
don't know what to tell you. You have handed me
the surprise of my life. When you mentioned that
automatic apartment, . . ."

"Calm yourself, my boy," placidly stated Hicks.
"I have just demonstrated to you the Automatic
Carpet Sweeper and the Self-Arranging Furniture
— just one feature of my Automatic Apartment.
Tell you the secret, too — electro magnetism, heavy
iron plates are attached low down under the furni-
ture — you will note the furniture is all somewhat
low. A system of electro magnets is arranged in
rows under the flooring. When I push the button,
the first thing that happens is that one row after
another of the electro magnetic poles becomes mag-
netized and then demagnetized, thus moving the
furniture along. The suction sweeper is furnished
with power of its own, but also kept true to its path
by remagnetization of row after row of the same
magnetic field, Eut I will now show you some
things which are really remarkable. Let us pro-
ceed to the kitchen." And thither he led the way,
while I followed, trying to brace myself for the
next surprise. We entered the kitchen, which was
spacious and beautifully arranged, with cheerful
colors decorating the walls and ceiling.

I looked around me. Everything was there that
should be found in a well appointed kitchen. The
sink was of porcelain, but I could see at once that
there was more to it than just a sink. My quea>

HICKS' INVENTIONS WITH A KICK

495

turning glance was interrupted by Hicks' watch-
ful eye.

"An Automatic Dish-Washing Device, of course,"
he explained. "But more than that: an Automatic
Dish Conveyor. Anything set down on this end-
less belt is immediately conveyed into the dish
washer, washed, dried and carried out, and depos-
ited at the opposite end."

He placed several cups, saucers, knives and forks
and a couple of large pans on what looked like a
white -enameled mat. Above the sink was a push
button. He pressed it. Instantly the dishes moved
at a rapid pace toward a long box-like object upon
one end of the sink. A rail on the conveyor opened
a trap door, through which the dishes disappeared,
when the door closed. I heard the splashing of
water, which continued for fully a minute. Sud-
denly the noise ceased, there was a click, and the
array of dishes reappeared on the other side of the
box, dry, clean, and shining, and stopped under-
neath a china-cupboard.

"I did not so far provide anything to distribute
the dishes on the shelf," half apologetically said the
inventor. "But for the present this will have
to do."

"But, Hicks — " I said.

ttTTTELL, let ua pass on to something interest-
» * ing," the inventor, seemingly ignoring my
interruption, said in a tone of one bored with the
trivialities of everyday existence. "As I said be-
fore, this is a Fully Automatic Apartment. That
means it does its own work. You only do the at-
tractive part of housekeeping. You do not sweep,
you do not clean, you wash no dishes, brush no
cobwebs, scrub no floors, polish no shoes. You
propose, as it were, and the apartment disposes.
In developing this invention the central idea was
that drudgery has no place in the scheme of life of
the modern man or woman. My hope was to be
able to take that drudgery out of life, — and I be-
lieve that I may say that I have in a measure suc-
ceeded. Now . . ."

"But, Hicks — " I said, in a tone of awe.

"Now look at this ceiling, for instance," said
Hicks, seemingly unaware of my astonishment.
"To the casual glance it looks like any other ceil-
ing, only with ornamental features ordinarily lack-
ing in a kitchen ceiling. In reality the design is
worked out in tiny perforations, the ceiling ma-
terial being sheet metal. Above this perforated
ceiling is an air space connected with a powerful
suction system. Just a moderate amount of air i3
usually circulating through this system. But if
I turn this switch" — he did and instantly a sighing
noise was to be heard— "then a powerful exhaust
is turned on, and cobwebs, dust, smoke and any-
thing else in the way of dirt disappears. If I take,
for instance, this handful of flour and scatter it in
the air, it does not, as you seemed to fear it would,
judging by the speed with which you tried to duck,
settle all over you and spoil your new clothes, but"
— and he pointed to the cloud of flour rapidly van-
ishing through the ceiling — "it simply disappears.
As the ceiling is virtually only a fine mesh, there
is no place for dust, dirt, or cobwebs to stay, when
this tremendous suction is turned on."

While I was trying to formulate in my mind an
apology for my rudeness in the morning, Hicks
went on:

"Now, following out this idea, what would be
the way to clean the floor? What, O'Keefe, would
be the way?

"Well, what would be more natural than to have
the floor also perforated, but instead of washing
it, as it were, by air, to wash it with water?"
queried Hicks, answering his own question. I had
to admit that he had me there. "Well, anyway,"
he continued, "that is the way I reasoned and so
you will note something which probably escaped
your eye when you entered, and that is that the floor
is also full of small perforations worked out in a
pleasing design. This floor, too, is of metal, and
below it there is a flat tank which can at will be
filled with water and emptied. If I press this but-
ton the water will rise. Step on one of these mats
and watch." Here he pointed out one of three or
four cork mats such as are sometimes used in bath-
rooms, about an inch or so high. We stepped up
on one, and already we saw the water rising in
a thousand tiny fountains, each one about a half
inch high, until the whole floor was submerged
under a quarter inch of water. "We do not need
to push any button again to make the water go
down," Hicks continued, "but, as you see, it is now
disappearing, carrying with it dirt, dust, and dis-
ease germs. The floor is now," he went on in a
tone of a lecturer explaining some wonder of na-
ture, "still wet, but by pushing this button I re-
verse the process you saw a minute ago, and air,
and this time warm, dry air, is forced through the
ceiling from above, passing through the floor below
in the wake of the water of which the last is now'
running down the drain, which can accommodate
a cubic foot of water a second, just as also the sup-
ply pipe is unusually large, permitting a flow of a
cubic foot every two seconds under the normal
pressure of 110 pounds per cubic inch prevailing
in the water system of this town. As you will note,
the floor is already dry."

I Toolted and saw. I was feeling a little feeble,
and I remember wondering if I had not had some
of somebody's homebrew that morning, for I was
having a queer feeling in my head. The automatic
cleaning business was too much for an ordinary
man, I told Hicks so.

"I have some other features here which I wanted
to show you," said Hicks, "but it is perhaps just
as well that you see them when the company are
assembled. You have seen enough, my boy, I think,
to believe me now when I tell you that I have some-
thing out of the ordinary, something unique and
something for which the world will be grateful in
the years to come when by its means the drudgery
of housekeeping will have been ended. Now,
O'Keefe, will you arrange this thing for me with
my — er, former — friends?"

That was a useless question. In the first place,
I had already promised him, and besides, after
what I had seen I would have arranged for the
King of Iceland to come and see it. Why, it was
wonderful, marvelous, big — to think of such an
idea. And the way he had it figured out — -pressure
per square inch- — cubic feet per second — you know

496

AMAZING STORIES

that kind of thing always gets me. I have a lot
of respect for mathematics and engineering, though
I know nothing about them. I told him I would
immediately go and see those friends.

IT was the following Tuesday that they were all
assembled. I still had a hlack eye, received
when Smith, the first one I tried, threw me out of
his house, but such was my enthusiasm that I had
managed to convince even him by ignoring his
brutal attack, and he was present. So was Hicks'
uncle Jeremiah, looking as sour as ever, and my
aunt Eulalia. There was Irvine and Mrs. Smith
and there were, besides, Professor Dinker and his
fiancee. Miss Peak, a prim person somewhat ad-
vanced beyond mere youth, with glasses, a pointed
red nose in a pale face, and opinions of her own.
And there was Hicks and myself. We had all gone
through the living room and had seen what I had
described, and now we were in the kitchen and the
inventor was talking— as usual.

"This is something still new to you, my dear
O'Keefe," Hicks was saying. "This is the Auto-
matic Shoe Shining Stand. By pushing this but-
ton, this trap door drops, revealing, as you will
note, a foot rest such, as is commonly used on shoe
shiners' stands, except that this is about a foot
from the floor. If now, Professor," Hicks said,
waving his hand toward the man of science, "you
will be kind enough to place your foot upon this
rest, you will all see that first this padded arm
takes hold of it, damping, as it were, over the in-
step to hold the foot securely down. You will note
that the machine works for exactly three minutes
and then lets go. This works automatically, you
know, and you will yourselves be able to watch the
process without my telling you."

We watched and we saw a hook-like arm, hinged
at its back end, describe a semi-circle, almost ca-
ressingly taking hold of the Professor's foot and
gently but firmly holding it down. Next, two
coarse brushes started to work lengthwise of the
shoe, removing any dirt there was along the soles
— if there was any. These brushes were fastened
to a sort of small truck which ran back and forth
on a pair of rails straddling the footrest, and when
they suddenly withdrew, they were followed by two
black polishing brushes running the same way, with
a third brush issuing from the side and polishing
the top of the shoes. They moved at great speed,
and they worked two or three minutes, when they
suddenly slid back, the clamp opened, and the Pro-
fessor's foot, with shoe polished to mirror-shine,
was released. Everybody murmured his astonish-
ment.

"How ever do those brushes get any blacking?"
asked the practical Mrs. Smith.

"A very natural question, Madam, and one
which is very pertinent," responded the inventor.
"The solution is as simple as it is efficient. In
passing out, each brush must pass over a roll upon
which blacking is distributed by another roll in
very mueb the same way that the ink is distributed
in a printing press. So that part of the inven-
tion," he added modestly, "cannot he termed my
own."

"I think it's marvelous," Mrs. Smith replied.

"To think of all those things that you have shown
us this morning. You call this an invention — why
it's dozens of inventions. Oh, wouldn't I love to
live in this apartment!" she said.

"Well, now," interposed Irvine, "do you think,
Hicks, that all that machinery is going to work?
Isn't something apt to go wrong? That thing that
held the Professor's foot down, for instance. You
say it don't let go for three minutes. But some-
thing might happen and you might want to get
away before then, say in three seconds. Supposing
there was a fire, then what? I am still waiting to
see the rest of your apartment, but off-hand this
strikes me as something to be considered."

People who must take the cheer out of life are
an abomination to me. I would have liked to have
told Irvine so. Couldn't the fellow see how won-
derful it all was? But I could have saved myself
the worry, for Hicks had the answer ready.

"A natural thought, Irvine," he smiled. "When
I said that the arm would not let loose under three
minutes, what I meant was, of course, unless it
were released before by pressing the release but-
ton right under the starting button, just as you
turn an electric light off after it has been turned
on. Three minutes is' merely the time required for
a perfect shine and to insure the best results. The
time-limit device is installed but merely as an aid
to the user, not as its master."

TRVINE looked a little abashed at this natural
A explanation. "I may as well state now," said
the inventor, "that this time I have left nothing
out. I built a special device which automatically
operated the various mechanisms, turning them on
and off, and reversing them hundreds of times a
day, to insure that every part worked as it should.
Also, I operated the various machines at a number
of speeds. The dish washer, the sweeper, the shoe
shiner, and all other devices are, in fact, still hooked
up so that they can be run at up to three times
their present operating speed, which was chosen
by me as the ideal because the most efficient. But
deeds are greater than words and, therefore, let
us now, after this little sample of work of the Fully
Automatic Apartment, proceed with a practical
demonstration of the larger features. Let me turn
on this switch."

He did, and then opened a large box containing
a powdery substance. "Knowing is believing, and
to make my demonstration convincing, I have here
what is called fuller's earth. It is a light, dusty
substance, and it could very properly be classed as
dirt. I have explained the action of the ceiling to
you. Let us now see what becomes of this earth
which I shall fling into the air." With this he
reached into the box and scattered a handful in
the air. Everybody dodged and Mrs. Smith
screamed, while even the prim Miss Peak lost sud-
denly some of her composure as she saw the thick
cloud of white dirt starting into the air. But, as
if by magic, the cloud rose and instantly disap-
peared through the ceiling. Nobody's clothes were
soiled with even a speck of dust. "How is this?"
smiled the inventor, as he took handful after hand-
ful of the stuff and flung it above him, the earth
each time instantly disappearing through the ceil-

HICKS' INVENTIONS WITH A KICK

497

ing. "The ceiling, I believe, is doing its work.
Now let us try the floor. I push thia switch, and
what happens?"

Instantly there was a sound I did not like. You
know I have a sort of an instinct for that kind of
thing; I can sort of feel when something is wrong.
Something seemed to work with an uncalled-for
force, for there was a vibrating and gurgling I
had not heard the last time. Instinctively I looked
at the inventor, who had grown the color of pale
cheese and was fumbling with a push button. "The
wrong one," I heard him groan. "The wrong one!
0, why did I leave that experimental stuff here?"
And then suddenly there was action. Straight in
the air, out of a thousand holes, there shot as many
streams of water, which rose six or seven feet high.
In an instant everybody was drenched from head
to foot. All those present were ao dumfounded
that for a few moments nobody moved. In fact,
this upside downpour was so thick that one could
hardly look through it. Just then the inventor
gave a mighty wrench on the switchboard and the
streams ceased. But there were three inches of
water on the floor.

"What in the hotel is the matter?" roared Irvine,
who was the first to recover his senses. "What is
the matter. Hicks? Are you trying to drown us?"

"I accidentally pushed the experimental switch,
and it refused to kick off. It doesn't matter.
I'll ..." stuttered Hicks.

"What the devil do you mean, doesn't matter?"
hollowed Smith. "Don't you 3ee that you have
completely ruined all our clothes? And it doesn't
matter ! Now of all the . . ."

"I didn't mean it that way. Smith," wailed Hicks.
"I'll turn on the warm air and we will all be dry
in a minute." With feverish hands he fingered the
switchboard.

We had all been recovering, and as we recovered
and everybody looked at himself, drenched from
head to foot, there was a feeling in the air as of
a dozen thunderstorms brewing and ready to break.
Something would have to happen to divert those
people from dwelling on their troubles, I thought,
and as I thought, it did. Hicks had found the but-
ton, and there was a click.

All at once, I heard a high whine, and instantly
there was an explosive puff, and the air was white,
jast before I closed my oyes, I saw why it was white.
It was the fuller's earth, a matter of twenty pounds
or so, returning well distributed from the ceiling
the name way it had come, with the same force,
and every hit that had been put in. Instantly our
wet clothes, for the most part dark-colored, as it
was winter, from our hats down to our shoes, were
as if covered with flour. The professor wiped his
face and smeared a broad streak of it over his nose
and mouth. It was so funny that I could not help
laughing. He tried to glare at me, but was cut
short by a fit of sneezing. Even in the act of laugh-
ing, I was seized, and in a moment all the others.
Everybody was sneezing his head off.

"Hee, kachoo! He, kachoo! Hicka!" screamed
Smith between spasms, "what, kachoo; in the hell,
kachoo! are you doing; kachoo, kachoo! Turn the
blooming, kachoo! thing off! I, kachoo! kachoo!"
he choked and could not go on.

"I am ha-ha-ha, kachoo! turning it off; I will
turn it off, I have turned it off, kachoo! kachoo!"
coughed the inventor as well as he could, between
sneezes. "There will be no more of it, kachoo!"

AFTER a few minutes the dust settled and the
babel of sneezes ceased. Then a flood of elo-
quence broke loose. Everybody was telling Hicks
what he thought of him. In his misery, the un-
happy inventor turned and started to fool with his
switchboard.

"Lead the way out, Hicks, let us go and never
see you again!" roared Irvine.

"Dismiss us instantly, sir," sternly ordered the
professor, who had managed to regain as much of
his dignity as was possible with a face like a miller
and clothes that looked as if they had been through
the flour mill,

"The back way is the quickest way out," said
the inventor, eager to get rid of his company. He
jumped ahead toward the back door, the others fol-
lowing. But it was locked from the outside. "I
have an electric lock on there," he muttered, as his
fingers sought another switchboard, — there were
switchboards everywhere on the walls, and I had
been wondering how he kept them apart. I wa3
to learn later. The shoe shining machine trap door
opened out into the room at the exact moment that
the professor approached with dignified step. Just
then he slipped on one of the wooden mats and fell,
landing on his back, with his neck on the footrest
of the shoe shining machine. I gasped. Instantly,
the foot clamp swung over, lovingly taking hold of
the professor's throat and gently but determinedly
holding down his head. Before our horrified gaze,
the stiff revolving brushes appeared as if by magic
and with a couple dozen swift and vigorous strokes
prepared the professor's ears for what was to come.
As the stiff bristles did their work, his shriek of
desperation could be heard a mile. The prim Miss
Peak, forgetting her dignity, came screaming to
her betrothed's aid, but was unable to lift the
clamp. I tried, but it was no use. The roughing
brushes had by this time finished, and now appeared
the polishing outfit. Immediately the professor's
entire face was covered with an even coat of black,
which the brushes started to rub down to an op-
tical polish. Even with the full realization of the
situation, I could not refrain from admiring the
thoroughness and fantastic speed with which those
brushes worked. Judging things objectively is a
habit with me, you know. In a few seconds the
professor's nose shone like a super-polished black
knob, while other parts of his facial anatomy were
taking on a wonderful shine. Ninety-five strokes a
minute, the inventor had said. It seemed more like
five hundred and ninety-five. By George, the high
experimental speed must be turned on ! That was
it. I remembered. These were just some ideas
that flashed through my mind — funny how the
human mind will work in close situations.

The professor's struggles helped as little as his
screams. "Push down your release switch, you
idiot," roared Irvine. I could have kicked myself.
Why didn't I at least think of that simple thing?
But Hicks stood there, pale as cheese, except for
the large smears of fuller's earth on his face, fum-
(Continued on page 512)

SHADOW on the SPARK

~ 73y Edward S. Sears *

THE SHADOW ON THE SPARK

499

31HEN Dr. Milton Jarvis descended the
gang plank of the liner Homeric, on his
return from the International Medical
Congress at Vienna, in the year 1926, he
fully expected to find his moat intimate
friend, Jim Craighead, at the pier to meet him.
He looked about him, somewhat disappointed, then
disconsolately walked over to Broadway, where he
stopped to buy a paper before hailing a taxi.

For more than two weeks he had not seen a paper.
He was busy with the notes he had made at the
Congress, which he was pledged to read shortly
after his return, to the American Medical Associa-
tion. Hence, it was with more than ordinary inter-
est that he looked at the glaring headlines of the
New York journals, so much more blatant than
those employed by the European preaa.

One glance at the first page of the newspaper in-
formed him why Jim Craighead had not met him.
He shut his eyes for a moment to assure himself
that he was not dreaming — that he really was home
and not with the medical celebrities who had gath-
ered at Vienna. Dismay, horror and unbelief strove
alternately for mastery. It was impossible — Heaven
would not permit such a crime. "Craighead in-
quest perfunctory" read the streamer. "Well-known
banker dies of shock following operation." Craig-
head, it appeared, had slipped while dashing for a
train. The platform was wet — the train was al-
ready in motion — he missed his footing, one leg
going under the wheels. Amputation became neces-
sary, fatal blood poisoning having set in.

The inquest had begun that very day. Very
little testimony had been taken when the edition Dr.
Jarvis was reading went to press. It was after two
o'clock in the afternoon when he got into the taxi,
and the doctor immediately resolved to hear what
he might of the remainder of the testimony.
Leaning out the window of the taxi, he called:
"Drive me to the Coroner's Court, please."
In a few minutes he stood in the court room just
before the Coroner adjourned the Court for the day.
The attending physician

was on the witness stand — ■ r i —

completing his recital of
the patient's treatment,

"Now, Dr. Lawson,"
asked Mr. Bailey, a law- m^L^^i^lYhT^d'ti 1 i
yer representing an in- to conehtsiatu 5 " ' Th'J" Vrv'ii'r
surance company in tmnely ingenious and can
which Craighead held a for use in similar- cases.

large policy, "how did you

treat your patient? I 1 ■ '■
understand that amputa-
tion was necessary as soon as Mr. Craighead
reached the hospital."

"That is correct," replied the doctor.

"Were all the usual precautions taken?"

"Oh, yes," said Doctor Lawson, "I attended to
that myself. The wound was perfectly sterilized.
Then I attached the haemostats."

"What do you mean by that?" asked Mr. Bailey.

"Little clips are used to fasten the ends of the
severed blood vessels. Afterward, they are replaced
by gut which is tied around the blood vessel, grad-
ually being absorbed as healing progresses," replied
the doctor.

H

f.w; i.

"And with all these precautions, the shock of
the operation killed Mr. Craighead?"

"That is true," assented Dr. Lawson.

"That will be all for today," said Mr. Bailey.
"Tomorrow, I will want to ask you a few questions."

The lawyers folded up their papers preparatory
to leaving the eourt room, while the large crowd
which had gathered out of curiosity to hear how
one of the wealthiest bankers of the city had met his
destiny, slowly filed out. Dr. Jarvis, seeing the
physician of the insurance company, whom he knew
well, at the table, joined him as he packed a sheaf
of papers into a wallet.

"What do you make of it Pulton?" he questioned
the doctor.

"So far, we have learned nothing, Jarvis," said
Dr. Fulton, slowly. "I know how close you and
Craighead were. You must feel terribly shocked.
It seems clear that the operation killed him. There
is no ground for suspicion, but we must make some
kind of fight, before we pay a $300,000 policy which
has been in force only six months. He left a large
estate too, as you probably know."

Dr. Jarvis went home in a deep, brown study.
He was shocked and horrified by the loss of his
dearest friend. He could not reconcile the thought
that this big, hearty person was the victim of blood
poison or shock. Why, the man had always been
immune. He had been proverbially tough, bubbling
over with vitality. "How had he lost that immu-
nity?" he asked himself. He recalled their last
day together— the day before he had sailed for
Europe. They were playing tennis at the country
club.

Dr. Jarvis, trying desperately to prevent his
rival from scoring the last point in a hard-fought
game, swung down viciously on a high bounding
ball, sending it back low over the net in what looked
like a volley, impossible to handle. But Jim Craig-
head whipped his racquet up in a swift lawford and
the ball, like a shot from a gun, sped down the side
line far from the doctor's reach.

"Damn," he cried,
m^^— — — "trimmed 8 to 6 by a man
of fifty and I'm your
ve story of a different type, junior by ten years. But
mmtnd lo you. It again you sure do keep in con-
,.7''' v 'i'' 1 i-",''"',' !y - h dition."
part of this sifi-v'is 'r'r "Doc," answered Craig-
be duplicated at any time head, "just three months
ago, when I took out life

. insurance policies for

— — — — — $300,000, the examiner
said he would like to have
a dozen risks in my condition. I can run a mile at
a good pace and do any stunts in the gym that a
kid can do."

"That's right, Doctor Jarvis," chimed in a young
man of twenty-two, who, with a beautiful girl about
the same age, had just run up to the club house in
Craighead's sedan, "he made me go some to keep
ahead of him in a long swim, though he didn't even
know the crawl."

DOCTOR JARVIS recalled that picture now— the
great, tawny-haired Craighead towering above
his adopted son's head, his arm fondly on his Bhoul-

500

AMAZING STORIES

der and the youth's arm about the girl's waist. The
girl, the jewel in the setting, had light hair, neither
golden nor yellow, although with a touch of autumn
wheat; she was delicately featured, with an expres-
sive mouth, inclined to be serious. Now, with these
two men, apparently happy and smiling, she revealed
very regular, white teeth. Boss Craighead was al-
most as tall as his adopted father but slender; Jim
was wide shouldered and robust. The girl, although
tall, seemed diminutive beside these two.

If the beautiful girl and the handsome youth
seemed well and full of vitality, Jim Craighead was
almost insolent in his defiant heartiness. Ros3
was the orphaned son of Craighead's sister who had
died when he was a few years old. The bond be-
tween these two was very strong — Ross was a sensi-
tive soul, of the artistic type, against which char-
acteristic the buoyant Craighead had waged a losing
fight. The boy could not be hardened.

At college he was all for humanities, classics,
science, logic, but close calculation in business
seemed to have been left out of his nature. Sports
had attracted him — he was good material for the
teams, especially in baseball and swimming. Just
as Craighead had determined that he would be hope-
less in the banking and brokerage operations which
he controlled, Ross had met Tessie Prettyman, who
was secretary to Craighead's manager. Her effi-
ciency was due to the fact that she took every in-
struction seriously and obeyed implicitly. She be-
lieved anything she was told, which was incon-
venient when she was listening to a rival of the firm.

Craighead was inclined to discourage the inti-
macy he saw growing between the pair but when
Rosa began to grind earnestly at tasks Jim knew
the boy loathed, he began to consider the girl less a
liability than an asset. She was an orphan, that
was all they knew of her history. But she was well
educated, a lady in all her actions, so that Jim soon
grew as fond of her as Ross. This, then, was the
circle which had been broken up by a tragedy so
unnecessary in Dr. Jarvis's mind as to be heart-
breaking.

Like all healthy men — men who have never felt
an ache or a pain, Jim was virtually a baby when
some slight cut or other wound came in a tennis or
other game. Once Doctor Jarvis had found him
taking morphine. Jim had said, rather shame-
facedly :

"It's not a habit. Milt, but I just can't stand pain.
I've never had much, I guess that's the reason."

This last day he had seen Craighead, the recol-
lection of which came to the doctor's mind over and
over again, the young man had taken the front seat
with Tessie, while Jim and Doctor Jarvis sat in
the rear.

"Jim, old man, I'll be missing you," said the doc-
tor, as they left him at his apartment.

"We'll be waiting at the pier when you come back,
Milt, twice as famous as you are now," was Jim's
reply.,

That was like him. He had helped Doctor Jarvis
through his early difficulties and setbacks, encourag-
ing him and rejoicing in his successes. He was
foster father and pal in one. So Doctor Jarvis was
very impatient as his brain refused to accept the
fact that Jim Craighead was dead.

In no way could he reconcile his sturdy friend's
death with a theory that the shock of an operation
would kill him. His analysis was searching. Noth-
ing in his experience was overlooked. He wa3
skilled in X-ray therapy as well as X-ray photogra-
phy. His science was modern — the latest researches
were commonplaces to him. But facts were what he
needed, after all. No conclusions could be drawn
from surmises. This thought drove him to the room
of Inspector Craven at headquarters. They were
good friends, for the doctor had often given expert
testimony in trials in which the inspector was in-
terested.

"Inspector," began Dr. Jarvis, "what do you know
of this Craighead inquest?"

"Well, Doc," replied the inspector, settling his
huge frame back in a capacious chair, as he wrin-
kled his thick brows and blew the smoke from a vile
smelling pipe through his walrus moustache, "in-
quests are not much in our line unless there is some
crime involved. This is such a clear case of a man
dying from the shock of an operation that the police
have no more interest in it than the public. Of
course Craighead was a big man. I knew him well
myself. He used to stop here to pick me up some-
times, so I got to know what an impatient chap he
was. He told me that he'd sprint for a car, when-
ever he had to ride on a street car, like any kid
of seventeen. The insurance company would grab
at anything suspicious but nothing has come up.
We all know the story. Craighead got too cocky
in his sprinting ability, and was run over. It was
mucky and rainy, so what followed was almost in-
evitable. Tough on the insurance companies, though.
Doc Lawson seems positive that it was the shock of
the operation."

"That is just why I don't feel satisfied," said Dr.
Jarvis., "Lawson is an old practitioner, a good sur-
geon, but very apt to make up his mind what killed
his patient. The more you might show him the
probability of some other cause, the more stubbornly
he would believe in his own theory."

"There are quite a few of us like that, Doc,"
smiled the inspector. "But, you knew the whole
family. Is there anyone who could profit by Craig-
head's death?"

"Well, there is Ross, Jim's adopted son and his
nephew. But he had all the money he needed — he
was in the business with Jim. Then, too, Jim made
no secret of the fact that his fortune was to go to
Boss. So I think that Boss is out of the question,
for they were devoted to each other. Ross is the
idealistic type — he would be more apt to give money
away than try to get it by murder."

"Who else is there?" queried the inspector, indif-
ferently, for he could see no mystery in Craighead's
death.

"Then," continued the doctor, "there is the girl to
whom Ross is engaged, a perfectly innocent creature
who simply adored Jim — he treated her as if she
were already his daughter-in-law. She is an or-
phan, Tessie Prettyman."

"Tessie Prettyman!" exploded Inspector Craven, '
"Good Lord, Doctor Jarvis, do you know who Tessie
Prettyman is?"

"No, she has no family that we know of, but she
seems to be a very refined and charming little lady."

THE SHADOW ON THE SPARK

501

((txtELL," said the inspector, bouncing from, his
VV chair, "Tessie Prettyman is a girl who has
been visiting Piggy Bill Hovey down in the Tombs.
Piggy Bill is held on a narcotic charge, without bail,
because he was caught with a large supply of mor-
phine, opium and heroin; the Federal boys want
to find out where he gets that stuff because he can't
be connected with any smuggling operations. Our
men have watched the girl and she seems to know
Piggy Bill very well. Some of them think she is his
sweetie. But. if Piggy Bill is anywhere on the hor-
izon, I am willing to be suspicious about Craighead's
death."

This revelation grated on Dr. Jarvis. He did not
believe for a moment that this sweet looking girl
had any criminal tendencies or was capable of play-
ing such a dual rfile as the affianced of Ross Craig-
head and the "sweetie" of a notorious criminal.

"Inspector," he said finally, "have you time to go
up to the hospital with me? The records or the
head nurse might tell us something."

"Time, time," roared Craven, "this is official busi-
ness now. What we have to learn is how Piggy
Bill's sweetie happens to be engaged to marry Jim
Craighead's son. First thing, we'll go to the hos-
pital, then we'll talk with this young man who seems
to be infatuated with Tessie."

In the inspector's big car it was a short trip to
the hospital. The records told them nothing new.
It was Dr. Lawson'a case, so that whatever he might
have to say would be developed at the inquest. But
for the fact, suddenly unveiled, that Piggy Bill was
somewhere in this series of events, the inspector
would have remained seated in his big chair, se-
renely puffing on his pipe.

"Doc," said the inspector, suddenly, "let's talk to
the head nurse first, then we can look up the young
man and Tessie."

"Miss Cornhill," asked the Doctor, when the head
nurse appeared, "did you see Mr. Craighead when
he was brought into the hospital a few days ago?"

"Of course," replied the nurse.

"How did Mr. Craighead seem to you?" he queried
further.

"Doctor Jarvis," the nurse said, "Mr. Craighead
was very badly hurt. He was not a patient sufferer
— he stood the pain irritably and was relieved when
it became necessary to etherize him. He asked the
doctor to give him a hypodermic a couple of times,
hut the doctor refused."

"That was like Jim," murmured Doctor Jarvis.

"But," continued the nurse, "he should not have
died from the operation under normal conditions.
Of course his mental condition was very bad. He
was a very handsome man, in fine physical condi-
tion and he moaned, time after time, "I had as lief
been killed as lose my foot."

"When Mr. Craighead was taken home, Miss
Cornhill," asked the doctor, "did one of your nurses
accompany him?"

"No, sir," was the reply, "Mr. Craighead insisted
that his son and the young man's lady friend be
with him— anyone else, he was sure, would irritate
him more than help."

"Thank you. very kindly, Miss Cornhill," said the
Doctor, and they left the hospital.

"Well, inspector," began Doctor Jarvis, when they

were seated in' the car, "we didn't get very far at
the hospital. If it lies between Koss and Tessie, I
guess it may as well end where it is."

"See here, Doc," said the inspector, gripping Doc-
tor Jarvis by the arm, "you've started me looking
for a murder or some crime and by the eternal, you
are not going to let any sentimentality about a
pretty girl check our investigation until we know
that there is or is not a crime."

"Inspector," replied the Doctor, with a hard giint
in his eye, "as long as there is any Hi ubt as to how
Jim died, I am with you to the end. I simply meant
to express my opinion that neither of those two
could be involved. Let us look the situation in the
face. Dr. Lawson has certified that Jim Craighead
died of natural causes. That prevents any kind of
action until the inquest reveals something of a sus-
picious nature. In fact, there would have been no
inquest but for the insistence of the insurance com-
pany. Now, we must develop something that points
to some unnatural factor in Jim's death before the
inquest is over."

"That's true enough," replied Craven, "and we
don't want to alarm anyone until we have the goods
on him. You be at the inquest bright and early
and keep your eyes and ears wide open. I will find
out when Tessie went to see Piggy Bill last and
join you later."

The inspector left Doctor Jarvis at his door, a
prey to many conflicting emotions. He had started
machinery going which he knew could no longer be
stopped. But he did not want to leave Ross open
to an insidious attack. His efforts to communicate
with him, however, were unavailing. After a
sleepless night the doctor refreshed himself with
a plunge, a shave, and then having dressed himself
in a sombre garb which fitted well with his present
emotions, went to the Coroner's court. It had just
opened with Dr. Lawson on the stand.

"Now Doctor," began Mr. Bailey, representing the
insurance company, "you were describing, yester-
day, the nature of Mr. Craighead's injuries. You
mentioned fastening the haemostats yourself. Will
you tell the coroner and the jury what you mean
by that?"

"Why, yes," answered Dr. Lawson, "to use layman
language, haemostats are little clips which are ap-
plied to the ends of all the severed blood vessels
when we amputate, thus closing them so tightly
that no foreign or toxic substances can find ttoeir
way in."

Dr. Jarvis leaned over to the physician of the
insurance company whispering, "Fulton, why
doesn't your lawyer ask him how the shock of the
operation or blood poison could kill him, if the
haemostats were properly applied?"

Dr. Fulton communicated this message to the
lawyer who immediately shot this question at Dr.
Lawson.

"Dr. Lawson, if the haemostats were properly
applied, how do you suppose the poisonous sub-
stances got into the wound, if the wound was sterile,
as we must assume it to have been after the opera-
tion at the hospital?"

"Well, one way, which I assume to have been the
true way, is that the poisons made their way
through the wall cells of the blood vessels — the ar-

502

AMAZING STORIES

teries, veins and capillaries," replied Dr. Lawson.

At this reply, Dr. Jarvis shut his lips very grimly.
He was making progress at last. Very opportunely,
at this moment. Inspector Craven slipped into the
chair next to him.

"Doc," he murmured, in a low tone, "we are on the
track of something — Tessie visited Piggy Bill twice,
the day before Craighead died. He's a bad egg,
but we never have caught him in anything red
handed except this narcotic deal. He's bad, though,
bad enough for anything. Now, here's another
funny thing about Piggy. He's an educated rogue,
talks French and is a great student of toxicology.
How does that fit in with your story now?"

"Inspector," said the doctor, "I don't know yet
where we are heading, but that last remark of Doc-
tor Lawson's shows me that Jim did not die of the
causes ascribed. Now we must find out what did
cause his death. With a few more facts, I think I
can clear this mystery. I'm half tempted to take a
hand right now."

"Wait until you have the whole story," advised
the inspector. "If we have to make any arrests, we
don't want to warn them in advance."

"Doctor Lawson has just made a bad break," said
Dr. Jarvis, "which makes it easy to show him up,
although I hate to discredit him. He really is a
good surgeon, hut he's not modern enough. We
must get all the information we can from him before
he suspects we are after anything."

He then scribbled on a piece of paper, "Ask who
nursed Craighead."

In a few seconds the lawyer asked:

"Dr. Lawson, Mr. Craighead was in charge of a
nurse, of course?"

"He was in good hands, Mr. Bailey," said Dr.
Lawson; "it was his own wish that his son Ross and
Miss Tessie Prettyman, of whom he seemed to be
very fond, should be with him and administer hi3
medicine."

"Is Miss Prettyman here?" queried the lawyer.
"She is sitting just back of you."
"That will be all for the present, thank you, doc-
tor," concluded Mr. Bailey.

« 1V/T ISS PRETTYMAN, will you take the stand?"
1V1 asked the coroner.

Both Dr. Jarvis and the inspector looked keenly at
the girlish figure which mounted to the witness box.
She was tall, well formed, with a wealth of blond
hair which surrounded a very beautiful, expressive
face, now drawn with worry and late vigils.

"You nursed Mr. Craighead during his last illness,
did you not, Miss Prettyman?" asked the lawyer,
after the usual preliminaries were over.

"Ross and I took turns, and sometimes both of us
sat with him together," said the girl. "He grew
fretful when one or the other of us was away for
even a minute."

"Did you give him his medicines?" continued the
lawyer.

"Sometimes I did and sometimes it was Ross,"
said the girl in a low voice, in which a slight catch
of emotion was discernible.

"Gad, Doc," snapped the inspector, "where is this
young chap? If he knows anything we can sweat
both him and Tessie."

"There he is, three seats over," replied Dr. Jarvis.
"One look at him ought to satisfy you."

They looked at the tall, well dressed youth —
about twenty-two he was — a sincere, dreamy looking
chap, yet now with his lips tightly compressed, evi-
dently resentful of the way the girl he loved was
being prodded.

"Miss Prettyman," queried the lawyer, who as yet
had not caught the drift of Dr. Jarvis's prompting,
"how did Mr. Craighead die? Describe his symp-
toms."

"I can hardly tell you that," answered the girl
without hesitation. "Ross would lie down for awhile
in the adjoining room, with the door open, when-
ever Mr. Craighead dozed off late at night. Mr.
Craighead died very suddenly, for I ran in a very
few seconds after Ross had cried that he was in
danger. Ross, of course, saw him die but would
tell me nothing about it. He said it was too awful."

"Now is the time. Doc," said the inspector, all bis
detective instincts aroused. "We'll see what the
boy says and then, if it throws suspicion on him, we
can see how deep is the affection of Piggy Bill's
sweetie."

In the girl, the inspector, looking for important
revelations, saw now, not a pretty girl, but the pos-
sible accomplice of Piggy Bill Hovey in some foul
deed.

"Swear Ross Craighead," said the coroner, who
did not know whether he was to be bored with a lot
of insurance statistics or was to face a drama not
yet unfolded.

The buzz of conversation in the courtroom ceased
as Robs took the stand. No one knew in what direc-
tion the inquest was tending. Even to the coroner
this long rehearsal of symptoms without any avowed
purpose seemed unnecessarily delayed. Inspector
Craven's presence puzzled him. He did not espe-
cially relish having the police oversee his conduct
of an inquest. He asked rather curtly that the
proceedings be hastened.

"Mr. Craighead," began the lawyer, "were you
with your father in his last hours?"

"I was," answered Ross, sadly.

"Did you purchase the medicines administered
to him?"

"No, sir," was the reply. "He was very querulous
if I left his side. When I dozed off, he often called
me just to talk. He felt the loss of his activity so
much it was pitiful. Miss Prettyman, who loved
him almost as much as I did, for we were always
together, never minded going out for whatever he
wanted, day or night."

"I should say not," muttered the inspector grimly
to Doctor Jarvis.

"Now," pursued the lawyer, obedient to the doc-
tor's prompting, "how did your father die? I do
not want to deepen your pain, but we must get at
some understanding of the exact cause of your
father's death."

"Well," answered Ross, wearily, "he insisted on
taking opiates; he knew how to take a hypodermic
himself, but he took some other drug, heroin, per-
haps. He was not a drug addict, but he often said
that he would take anything to drown pain. It
happened like a flash. I did not know that blood
poison could travel so fast. The night he died he

THE SHADOW ON THE SPARK

503

took an opiate and seemed drowsy, so that I said I
would lie down for a moment or two. He took a
bottle in which was a colorless liquid and poured
some of it into a glass of milk. He was half asleep
then, so I went to my room while he was drinking it,
for he often took a glass of milk in that fashion. I
had had very little sleep for two or three days and
dozed off at once with all my clothing on. I could
not have slept more than a quarter of an hour when
I was awakened by a crash. It was the crash of
breaking glass, as I learned an instant later. I
rushed into his room to see him breathing his last.
He had overturned the table on which were the
bottles of medicine. But what a terrible sight
greeted my eyes! His hands, arms, legs twitched
and shot out from second to second, then before I
could even call for help he had a convulsion and
died. I called Dr. Lawson. It seemed an eternity
before he answered. Miss Prettyman had heard my
cries and she was with me. Dr. Lawson asked if
he had taken anything besides the medicine he
had prescribed. I said yes, he had taken a hypo-
dermic and some other opiate.

"The hopeless fool," he cried. "I warned him
against that very thing. He practically killed him-
self. The shock of the operation was enough at one
time."

When he reached the house, he said it was too
late to do anything.

"Did you look at the bottles on the floor?" asked
the lawyer.

"Yes, sir," replied Ross. "They were all thrown
together in a broken heap — they had been on a small
table at his bedside. In his struggles, he must
have overturned them. Oh, it was terrible, terrible."
Here, the young man buried his head in his arms,
shaking with the power of his emotions.

"Inspector," said Dr. Jarvis, "that young man was
describing a death from strychnine poisoning. We
must find out where that strychnine came from.
Look at that girl now!"

The inspector followed his gaze to where Tessie
sat. She was obviously horror stricken. A look
of despair crept into her face as she followed Ross's
descent from the stand. Ross was about to go to
her side but at a sign from the inspector an officer
took him by the arm, leading him to a chair near the
inspector. His heart sank as he caught that look
of despair on the girl's face.

EVERY actor in the drama was apparently in
court. Dr. Jarvis had caught the Inspector's
fever for a man hunt. It was now a cold problem
of science. He was not a judge, merely an instru-
ment of justice. No longer was there a thought in
his mind, any more than in that of the inspector,
that any person should be shielded. He was going,
from now on, to let the chips fall where they would.

"Inspector," he said, "the whole situation now
depends on how much that girl knows. I am going
to ask Mr. Bailey to put me on the stand. I see
exactly how the affair was managed, but I haven't
the slightest idea of who planned or executed it.
Anyway, when I get through, if Ross or Tessie had
any hand in it, they will talk better than if they
were subjected to the third degree. I am talking

of murder now; when I am through, it will be your
affair to bring the guilty person to justice."

"H'm," mused the inspector a second, as if in
doubt, then posted his men with orders to let no
one leave the court room until he gave the signal.
"There might be others," he reflected, "so why
not bag them all?"

Dr. Jarvis now stepped to the table where coun-
sel and doctors sat. After a few whispered words,
Mr. Bailey rose to his feet.

"Mr. Coroner," he said, "one of our most promi-
nent physicians, an acknowledged authority and
the closest friend of the deceased, is our next wit-
ness. His testimony may clear up some of our dif-
ficulties."

The pursued rarely are ignorant that they are
pursued. As the lawyer concluded his announce-
ment. Tessie half rose to her feet, but an officer
forced her back into her chair. She realized then,
that she was in custody. She had indeed, divined be-
fore that the inquest had taken a threatening turn.
Ross dully watched the progress of events thinking
how he might shield her from persecution. Lovers
are impersonal. The world is outside. To him, Jim
Craighead was still alive. Suspicion did not enter
his mind. It did not occur to him that he might
be suspected of murder. Still less did he conceive
that anyone would accuse of complicity in a mur-
der, the girl, who to him, was the impersonation of
innocence. That a net of some evil omen was weav-
ing about them was too evident to be ignored. Its
nature, however, was a mystery to him. Yet when
the doctor, a man whom he knew for the devoted
friend of his foster father and, as he thought, also
of himself, got on the stand and began to speak in
that sure, even voice, which seemed to brook no
contradiction, he looked somewhat hopefully at that
dynamic figure. The doctor was a tall, slender man,
athletic and erect in appearance, with a firm, in-
tellectual face.

Dr. Jarvis was sworn. He was then examined on
his various degrees, his experience, his scientific
and other studies. Mr. Bailey, instead of asking a
series of questions, requested him to give any tes-
timony that might throw light on the death of Jim
Craighead.

"I would like you to bear patiently with what
I have to say," began Dr. Jarvis, "interrupting', if
you like, when I have not been sufficiently clear,
for whatever questions you may care to put.

"Singularly enough, the mysterious death of the
best friend I have ever known ceases to be a mystery
through a remarkable scientific discovery which I
must rehearse briefly. It is the relative size of the
smallest bodies known to science. The structure
of the atom has been analyzed. The atom is the
smallest particle of matter which can exist indepen-
dently. The elements which enter into the atom
have no existence apart from the atom. The atom
is the smallest particle of matter which can enter
into the structure of the molecule. But it is not in-
destructible. It has been broken up into its ele-
ments. These consist of outer circulatory electrons
which are negative charges of electricity and a core
or nucleus composed of positively charged protons
and 'some electrons, all in balance. These electrons
are in constant motion within the atom, revolving

AMAZING STORIES

about the nucleus much aa the planets revolve about
the sun.

"Now, thia discovery led to the measurements
of these tiny particles. Science wanted to learn
more about the relative masses of atoms and mole-
cules. The electron is about one thousandth the
volume of the hydrogen atom. Do not think this
is all a pedantic discussion. You will see in a very
few moments how very practical it all is,

"The atom," continued Dr. Jarvis, "is invisible
under the most powerful microscope. The mole-
cule is larger, but defies the microscope. But,
having gone thus far, science had to go further.
The next larger mass after the molecule, is the
colloid. A colloid is a formless substance classified
as a slime. It never takes a definite form like the
crystal line substances. Solutions of gold can be
made in the two forms — there is a colloidal gold and
a crystalline gold."

A look of stupefaction was on the faces of the
inspector, the coroner and all that vast throng in
the courtroom. Yet a pin could have been heard,
had it dropped during that tense silence. Back of
these mystic words an enigma lay. That the doctor
would clear it up, his easy self assurance seemed to
guarantee.

"Even the colloid practically baffles the micro-
scope. In the ordinary atmosphere, merely cloudy
impressions can be obtained. How then is the pre-
sence of any of these tiny particles discovered? It
is very simple, when the method is disclosed. The
colloid cannot be seen, but it makes a shadow on an
electric spark as it passes by. So when the presence
of a colloid is suspected, its shadow on an electric
spark betrays it."

"Pardon me, Doctor, for Interrupting you," broke
in fhe bewildered Mr. Bailey, "but if this discussion
has any bearing on the death of Jim Craighead, I
would like to know, if these particles you are talk-
ing about, are so small that they cannot be seen
with the strongest microscope, how it helps you any
to know they make a shadow on an electric spark.
In fact, how do you know they make a shadow on
an electric spark?"

tc^VT-OU may have read at times, Mr. Bailey," re-
)f plied the doctor, "announcements that as-
tronomers had located a star known through math-
ematical calculations to be at some point in the
heavens, which the telescope has been unable to
penetrate. Well, the speed of light, which is 186,-
000 miles a second, helps us. A photograph of the
heavens will sometimes reveal something which the
eye could not see. So, a photographic plate will
sometimes catch the smaller particles as well as the
largest stars, too far away to be seen.

"If you consider the light as moving in waves it
is easier to understand what effect light waves have
on these discoveries. Artificial light travels in waves
farther apart than in the case of natural light. The
waves of this kind of light are 30 far apart that the
colloid or small microbe can lie between the waves
and make no impression on the eye or on the photo-
graphic plate." The doctor here took a sheet of
paper and hastily made a sketch which he showed
to the jurors and the coroner.
Artificial light waves:

toubie

aaaa

ARTIFICIAL U0MT RAYS

"The waves of natural light are closer together,
but still too far apart to catch much of the small-
est germs, like that of cancer, or the colloid, to ad-
vantage." The doctor made another sketch.

Natural light waves:

.COLLOID

AfWA

NATURAL LIGHT RAYS

"In natural light, under the microscope, it is at
times possible to get a hazy impression which con-
veys little information. But it has been found pos-
sible to use the ultra-violet waves which are shorter
than natural light waves in a vacuum and thus to
get a photograph of particles too short to be
caught in ordinary light." Here the doctor made
his final drawing.

Ultra-violet waves:

/COLLOID .

/Aaaaa

ULTRA- VIOLtT RAYS

"Thus a shadow thrown on a spark of an ultra-
violet ray in a vacuum will be recorded on a pho-
tograph of the phenomenon. The discovery of the
Becquerel Bays, the X-rays and the various rays
known as "gamma," etc., were all stepping stones
to our knowledge of the tiniest particles. . Com-
pared with electrons, atoms and molecules, the col-
loid is relatively large.

"A photograph would show the presence of a
colloid without great difficulty. Now, what is the
relation of the colloid to the problem we are try-
ing to solve? During the world war, things were
learned which were mothered by necessity. Sur-
gery had to be not only quick but effective. While
what is known as the shock of an operation is due
to a toxic condition, it is not what is technically
known as blood poison. It is definitely the shock
of the operation. In the world war it was learned
that the shock of the operation was due to the
absorption or infiltration of certain toxic or poi-
sonous substances which belong to the colloid
family.

"It was observed that if the haemostats were
removed from a wounded member, which had been
amputated, the condition of shock immediately
was noticeable. This led to the conclusion that the
haemostats kept out something which could enter
when they were removed. The inevitable conclu-
sion which followed was that the cause of shock
was something which could not pass through an
animal membrane or tissue, such as the walls of
the blood vessels. Experiments have shown that
while crystalline molecules would pass readily
enough through a parchment filter the colloids re-
mained behind.

"So, if a wound is made perfectly sterile and
haemostats are used to seal the wound hermetic-
ally, the colloid poisona are excluded and, as they
could not penetrate an animal membrane, the seal-
ing of the wound effectually prevents the condition
known as shock which so often is the fatal result
of an operation. The tiny colloid, first known by

THE SHADOW ON THE SPARK

505

its shadow on a spark, cannot enter the blood
stream if the wound of amputation is sealed.

"The ieasons of the world war showed that the
wall cells of the blood vessels, the arteries, veins
and capillaries present a compact and effective bar-
rier to the passage of the colloidal poisons which
cause death. Can you see now where we have ar-
rived? Dr. Lawson has said that Mr. Craighead's
death was due to poisons which seeped in through
the wall cells of the blood vessels. But in this long
and perhaps tiresome explanation I have shown
this to be impossible. Jim Craighead did not die
of the shock of the operation. Dr. Lawson is posi-
tive that the wound was perfectly clean, that it
was impossible for infection to have entered at
the point of amputation.

"If it was impossible there, it was impossible
elsewhere. So, if Jim Craighead did not die of the
shock, he died of something else. It was not blood
poison, for it would not have acted on a man of
Craighead's strength and perfect health, in so
short a time. His death was due neither to blood
poison nor to shock. Of what, then, did he die?
Symptoms tell us clearly enough. Craighead's son
describes in untechnical language, symptoms
which point almost unerringly to the fact that
Craighead died of poison administered to him.
That poison, I assert was strychnine."

Had a thunderbolt destroyed the cupola on a
nearby building and caused it to crash in on them,
or had a boy rushed in crying that a tidal wave
was rushing up Broadway, the excitement could
not have been greater. The girl was crushed.
Was it guilt that could be read in her terrified fea-
tures? The coroner's jury, which a few minutes
earlier was ready to render a verdict of death due
to an operation, was now anxious to recommend
the arrest of a murderer.

T^OR a few seconds the atmosphere of the court
" room was tense — no whispers broke the silence,
but eyes moved restlessly to the actors in the drama.
The girl under guard, almost terror stricken,
looked across beseechingly at her lover. The youth
returned her gaze, nodding encouragingly. Every
word spoken by the doctor had burned his soul.
His steady, calm exterior encouraged the girl and
she grew calmer.

This ominous silence was broken by the coroner.

"Dr. Jarvis," be said, "the fact of poisoning can
readily be established by an autopsy. If it reveals,
as you assert, the presence of poison, arrests must
follow."

"Yes, if after the autopsy, you find the guilty one
who, being warned, would flee," cried the inspector,
who had followed the conclusions of Dr. Jarvis and
decided upon his course of action. "While you
are looking for proofs which you are certain to
find, if Dr. Jarvi3 is not mistaken, and he does not
talk like a man who is mistaken, I will take the pre-
caution of arresting Ross Craighead, on the charge
of poisoning or being an accessory to the poison-
ing of his father."

"What a foul lie!" cried the youth, leaping
toward the inspector, with whom be would have
grappled like a wild beast, had not the police inter-
ceded. After a violent struggle he was manacled
bo that he could threaten no more harm. The in-

spector was unmoved by this demonstration. He
was calculating the girl must move. Either she
would remain calm, as might be expected of Piggy
Bill's "sweetie," or she would try to save Ross. His
calculation was perfect. Ros3 had not yet been
subdued when the girl's voice could be heard above
the tumult. Terror and dismay mingled in her cry.
She rose to her feet and began to speak. An of-
ficer grasped her arm to force her back into her
chair, but the inspector motioned him to release
her. He spoke to her across the room.

"Whatever you say, Tessie, will be used against
you," he said. "Do you want to take the stand
again? Perhaps you had better talk to a lawyer.'

"No, no," she cried wildly, "I will tell you every-
thing I know. I did not understand what it all
meant until Dr. Jarvis had explained. Now I see
it all and it is too horrible. That boy you accuse,
Ross — you do not know him. He couldn't kill a
rabbit. He would run his car off a bridge to keep
from hitting a stray cat. He nearly wrecked U3
once to avoid hitting a dog. You can do anything
to me if he is cleared. But I never committed
murder. I can't bear suffering in others — I suffer
as much as the one I see in pain. But who is going
to believe me, now?"

Slowly she moved to the witness box, where she
took the oath again.

"Miss Prettyman," said Mr. Bailey, "tell us all
the facts you know in connection with Mr. Craig-
head's death. Tell us particularly where you ob-
tained any of the drugs administered to him during
the period following his operation."

"It is true," Tessie began, "that I bought all the
drugs which Mr. Craighead needed. All the pre-
scriptions were filled by the Groves pharmacy.
There were two or three for digitalis and one or
two for antiseptic washes. There was another pre-
scription which I must describe. The day before
Mr. Craighead died I went to the prison to see Bill
Hovey."

The inspector whispered quickly to Mr. Bailey,
beside whom be had taken a chair. The lawyer now
saw his cue. The girl was to be sweated. In far
harsher terms than the inspector used for the third
degree, he shot out :

"How many times did you go to see this Bill
Hovey?"

"Twice, the day before Mr. Craighead died," she
answered dully.

"Bill Hovey, in the parlance of the underworld,
is your 'sweetie,' is he not?" pursued the lawyer.

"You filthy cad," burst from Ross, who tried un-
availingly to break his manacles.

"You'll be gagged, if you don't keep quiet," said
one of his guards. But the inspector turned and
motioned for silence.

"Mr. Bailey," replied the girl, with dignity and
resentment, "Bill Hovey is a man who, I have
learned lately, has committed many wrongs, but
he is fifty-two years old and I am twenty-two. He
never was my 'sweetie,' as you call him, since you
are so well acquainted with the underworld; he is
my stepfather."

There was a murmur of approval from the spec-
tators, who obviously did not like the way the ex-
amination was conducted. Inspector Craven leaned
toward Dr. Jarvis.

S06

AMAZING STORIES

"Say, Doc," he whispered, "I'm beginning to see
light. We're only getting started. How about
you?"

"Did Mr. Craighead and Rosa Craighead know
that your stepfather was in prison?" asked Mr.
Bailey.

"When Ross Craighead first asked me to dinner
at their home," answered Tessie, "I knew that he
was showing me serious attention. After dinner, I
told Mr. Craighead that I had only come so that I
could talk to him more freely than was possible
in the office; I told him that my stepfather was a
drug addict and in prison for having drugs; that
he was an educated man, but of no account, and
that he always had plenty of money, although we
never knew him to work. Still he never was mean
to us and r saw little of him after my mother died.
Recently I had not seen him. The last time he saw
me he told me he was not as 'flush' as he had been.
All this I told Mr. Craighead, thanking him for his
kindness. Then I intended to leave. But he and
Ross refused to let me go at all. They said it was
bad enough to have the father's sins visited on the
heads of their children, without taking in the step-
children, too."

PROMPTED by the Inspector, Mr. Bailey con-
tinued his questions.
,t Why," he asked, "did you go to see Bill Hovey
the day before Mr. Craighead died?"

"I should not have gone at all," replied Tessie,
"if Mr. Craighead had not requested it. He sent me
out a couple of times to a druggist with an old pre-
scription for narcotics— morphine— and the drug-
gist refused to fill it. He knew Dr. Lawson had
forbidden it and was afraid. Then the pam got
so bad that Mr. Craighead tossed about moaning
all the time. His tossing only made the pain worse,
so he called me early in the morning.

•"Tessie," he said, 'do you mind going to that
no account stepfather of yours? Ask him if he
can tell you where to get some morphine. Those
fellows always know where it is to be had. Just
say that you want to do me a good turn — that I am
in great pain.'

"I asked Ross what to do. He said, 'I don t like
it at all, but he never uses it unless he is suffering,
so I guess it will be all right to humor him. He
is always brooding over the loss of his foot, so 3
few hours of freedom from pain may do him good.
He was like this when he sprained his ankle in a
tennis game, two years ago. I thought he would
go mad. He just drugged himself all the time to
deaden the pain. The doctor said he took enough
to kill a horse. I often feared he might get the
habit, but he never did.'

"So, I went to see Bill Hovey at the prison. _He
seemed glad to see me and told me what an injus-
tice had been done him. He said he felt sure he
could get out if he had money enough to pay the
lawyers. After he got out he intended to go off
somewhere and start right again. I told him I was
glad to hear it and then he said :

"'Tessie, I could fix everything up if I had
$10,000. You could get it, too, to help your father
out of trouble.'

"'How could I get such a sum?' I asked.

" 'Why, your rich friends, Mr. Craighead and his
son, they have all kinds of money — they would give
you $10,000 if you tried them qut.'

" 'If that is the price of asking you a favor, Bill
Hovey,' I answered, 'I may as well go.'

"He changed, then— tried to soothe me — said he
would do anything I wanted — asked me to forget
what he had said. Then I asked him where I could
get some morphine. I told him how Mr. Craighead
was suffering, but that I was doing this of my own
accord to help him. I didn't want to tell Bill any-
thing that might encourage him to try to get money
from Mr. Craighead. He asked me when I was go-
ing to be married. I said I didn't know — Mr.
Craighead wanted us to wait until Ross was
well on in the business, because Ross was to suc-
ceed him. He wanted him to learn the 'ropes,' from
the beginning.

" 'Tessie,' he said finally, 'I'll do this for you
without any strings. I know of another drug that
he can use with the morphine. It is called scopola-
min and is known as a mydriatic. But it has other
properties, too. Do you know anything about it?'

"'No,' I answered, 'I never studied much
chemistry.'

"Bill wrote some words hastily. He said it was
a prescription which I was to take to a place near
Tarrytown."

The moment the girl mentioned "Tarrytown,"
two hard-faced men in the court room rose hastily
from their seats, one moving toward the door, the
other to a corner of the corridor where there was
a telephone booth. But the inspector, who had fol-
lowed the girl's story with the utmost attention,
was watching every one of the spectators in the
crowded court room.

"Get those two men," he ordered, pointing to the
pair, who tried to force their way along more
quickly. The second man actually entered the tele-
phone booth, frantically moving the lever to signal
the operator. An officer pounced on him before
the operator had answered. He struggled mightily,
but handcuffs were slipped on his wrists too quickly
for resistance. His companion reached the door to
walk into the arms of another officer.

PANDEMONIUM now reigned in the court
room. Two reporters rushed to the telephone
booths. The police made no exception for the men
of the press. For some minutes the confusion was
too great for any voice to be heard. Finally the in-
spector succeeded in making himself heard, his big,
booming tones dominating the uproar.

"Mr. Coroner," he began, "nothing but the neces-
sity of preventing a crafty scoundrel from making
his escape eould justify my interference with your
jurisdiction. I am an officer sworn to uphold the
dignity of your court as well as that of any other
judge or official. But I knew, if there was a grain
of truth in the story that young woman on the
stand was telling, the villain certainly could not be
without interest in this inquest. He would not dare
to come himself, nor would he dare to remain
ignorant of what might transpire. Some trusted
agent must be present."

"Will you continue your story, Miss Pretty-

THE SHADOW ON THE SPARK

507,

- man?" asked Mr. Bailey, with more courtesy than
he had yet shown the girl.

In a firmer voice, inspired with the hope that her
story was gaining credence, Tessie resumed her nar-
rative.

"Bill wrote the prescription in words I could not
understand. He said it was Latin. I studied a
little Latin in school, but not that kind. He called
it medical Latin; besides, the writing was very
cramped and would have been hard to read even in
English. The last part of it I could not make out
at all. t

" 'He's an artist,' said Bill, 'this druggist you
will visit- — a man of parts, though deformed, yet in
his art, a creature of meticulous skill. Fussy he
is, too, about his prescriptions — he will always have
them very proper and formal.'

"The prescription bore no address.

'"Where must I take the prescriptions?' I asked
him.

'"On 42nd Street,' he said, 'off Broadway, look
for a taxicab, not one of the big companies — there
is a coat of arms on the door, with a figure nine
above it. Tell the driver Bill sent you with a pre-
scription. He will take you to the place. It is a
long ricle, but you need have no fear.'

"I went to 42nd Street and Broadway. a3 Bill
had told me, but I saw so many cars that I thought
he had tricked me. None of the cars stood more
than a few seconds. While I stood there be-
wildered, staring at the doors of all the taxis, one
stopped opposite me. The driver motioned to me
and then I noticed that the door had a coat of arms
and a figure nine. The traffic was stopped for an
instant. He opened the door for me to step in. The
moment I was in he closed the door and drove off.
At first I thought he was crazy, for he drove around
the block three times, then went over to Sixth Ave-
nue and drove almost recklessly. After that, he
turned again two or three times and I recognized
Broadway. We never left Broadway again until
we reached Tarrytown. We passed a number of
fine estates, and several towns, all new to me, for I
had never been so far on that road before. But I
did notice that we never turned until we had passed
Tarrytown. Some distance beyond Tarrytown — it
may have been a few miles — the driver took a turn
to the left toward the river, until we came to quite
a woods. It looked like part of some big estate that
had not been well kept or from which its owner had
been absent a long time. Weeds grew tall, the
fences were broken and it looked quite deserted.

"A kind of wagon track led through a gate, which
hung on one hinge, into the woods. The driver
lifted the gate to let the car through, then closed it
again behind him. Some distance from the road,
well hidden in the trees, we came to a house, once
a tenanted house, but now looking very dilapidated.
It did not seem a likely place for a drug store —
* still I said nothing as my stepfather had directed.

"The car stopped and I stepped out. The driver
knocked at the door twice, rather sharply. Some
one peered through a dust-covered window half
closed by rickety shutters. In a second or two the
door opened, the driver mumbled a few words and
we were ushered into a strange room by a mis-
shapen dwarf.

"It was fitted up as a drug store — counters,
shelves filled with bottles, all labeled, graduate
glasses such as you see in the hospital, rolls of
bandages, first aid kits and instruments. The drug-
gist was a hunchback, who filled me with aversion.
But he merely held out his hand for the prescrip-
tion, turning his hand to his bottles and glasses as
soon as I had given it to him. It was easy to see
that he was a skilled apothecary by the way he han-
dled everything. When he had filled the prescrip-
tion he gave me a package. It contained a bottle of
colorless liquid which was labelled: 'Dose — ten
drops with milk or other liquid.' There was a small
box, too, labelled 'morphine.' On the bottle was the
word 'scopolamin.'

cc-pHE driver was waiting outside the house for

J- me. It seemed good to get out in the air
again. Once in the taxicab, the driver backed in
among the trees to turn around. He drove back
along Broadway until he came to the city line. There
he told me that I could i-eturn along the subway.
All this mystery so puzzled me that I determined
to see Bill again to learn if the prescription was
properly filled. When I saw Bill Hovey I showed
him the bottle. There were many bottles in his cell.
He was known to be a good chemist and worked
in the prison drug shop. He took this bottle and
held it to the light. Then he took a sip of it.
'Seems to be all right,' he said. He wrapped up a
bottle, but I know now, that he must have given
me a different one. I put it in my pocket. From
the prison I went straight to Mr. Craighead. Ross
was with him. I said :

'"Why all this round-about way to get a little
drug? 'it was all horrible. I wish that you would
not take any more of the stuff.'

"Mr. Craighead just laughed. 'Well, little girl,'
he said, 'if a man insists on buying liquor, he must
go to rather ugly looking places to get it- — if he
must have morphine, and the doctors will not get
it for him, he must go to even uglier places. But
we will never try that again!'

"That night he took a hypodermic, but never
touched the bottle. He kept all out of sight when
Dr. Lawson came the next morning. Toward night
his pain became intense again. That must have
been why he used the drug the misshapen druggist
bad given me. If I had only known — oh, if I had
only known."

Tessie gave way to uncontrollable sobbing.

When she had grown somewhat composed, Mr.
Bailey asked:

"Could you read the prescription at all?"

"One word, only," replied Tessie, "Scopolamin."

"What became of the prescription?"

"There was a file," said Tessie, "with a number
of other prescriptions filed upon it; the drug-
gist put the one Bill had given me with the others."

Half dazed by the ordeal through which she had
passed, Tessie walked unhindered to where Boss
sat manacled. Inspector Craven himself removed
the handcuffs from the boy's wrists. He drew the
girl to a chair beside him.

"Mr. Coroner," said Inspector Craven, rising, "I
am prepared now to make the extraordinary request
which I mentioned before Miss Prettyman had

508

AMAZING STORIES

completed her testimony. There is but one way to
teat her story fairly. Assuming, as I do, that her
story is true, she would be placed in jeopardy, if
the men who tricked her were allowed to escape. It
is possible to trap the druggist, who doubtless, with
mind warped by affliction, i3 capable of aiding as-
sassins who use poison. If the court is willing to
hold this session open until I have had time to
verify this extraordinary tale, and capture, if pos-
sible, the author of a diabolical plot, several unex-
plained murders of the same sort may be solved.
But in order that no warning may be given, I
request you to make an order that no one leave this
court room until I return."

"It is an extraordinary request, Inspector Cra-
ven," replied the coroner, "so extraordinary that I
do not know if I have so much arbitrary power.
Before even deciding I must ask you a question to
clear up the young woman's story. Is it possible
that she visited this Hovey in prison and that it was
possible for him to give her writing without de-
tection?"

"When a man like Bill Hovey is captured, Mr.
Coroner," answered the inspector, "he is often given
a great deal of apparent freedom in order that he
may betray his confederates, and also in a narcotic
case, that he may betray the hiding place of a lot of
dangerous drugs. It was even contemplated to
release Hovey and keep him under surveillance, but
he is so slippery a character that the plan was
abandoned as too risky. Two men were detailed to
follow the young woman on her visit to Hovey.
They were not clever enough for the job. The taxi
driver went three times around the block with the
officers two cars behind on his trail. The driver
knew it. He drove around the block until he saw
the traffic signal about to change. He dashed across
the street while the officers waited until the signal
was changed again. When they crossed the street
the taxi they were following had disappeared. The
taxi, as Miss Prettyman has related, did not return
to the city that night. When she returned to the
prison, the officers who were supposed to be watch-
ing her, were still looking for the taxicab, which
they learned had turned into Broadway. This inci-
dent, however, will result in more stringent rules
and curtailment of prisoners' privileges.

ccx TTHAT I propose to do is this," continued In-
VV spector Craven. "I propose to take Tessie
and Doctor Jarvis with me to Tarrytown. Unless
he has been warned, the druggist will be awaiting
news. Two men from this room are in custody.
There may be others posted here. For that reason
our mission will be futile if anyone is permitted
to leave."

"If I make such an order," said the coroner, "your
men will have to enforce it. No matter how you
travel you cannot go to Tarrytown and back under
five hours."

"That is true, Mr. Coroner," said the inspector,
"yet this is worthy of consideration. In the last
four years there have been seven unexplained mur-
ders through poisons which cannot be obtained
without a prescription. Yet no prescriptions for
those poisons have been found nor has the source
of them been traced. Here we have two desperate
men skilled in toxicology with a supply of danger-
ous substances."

The coroner hesitated no longer. Rising from his
chair, he pronounced his decree:

"As the presiding officer of this court I hereby
enjoin and forbid any person to leave this court-
room until the return of Inspector Craven or until
he has advised the Court from Tarrytown, which I
require him to do the instant he has accomplished
or failed to accomplish his mission,"

An additional detail of officers had arrived. There
were a few murmurs against this exercise of auto-
cratic power, yet the murmurs were soft, for there
was no spectator of the unexpected turn of events
in the courtroom, who did not want to be present at
the denouement. Some openly believed the girl was
lying. Others quite vehemently espoused her cause.
Obviously the hours would not be dull in the court
room until the party returned.

The girl, a picture of abject despair, sat at the
side of her affianced lover, uncertain of a future
which only a few days before seemed rosy with the
dawn of hope. Turning to her, the inspector said:

"Tessie, you must show the way to the druggist
near Tarrytown. It means freedom and vindication
for you and Ros3 if we verify your words. Doctor,
if we can find that prescription, it will need more
Latin than I ever knew to decipher it. Ross, I
think it is coming out right — as right as it can."

To this Ross made no reply. He pressed Tessie's
hand in farewell, then the trio left the courtroom,
hundreds of curious eyes following them. Some
women whispered as Tessie passed them:

"Good luck, dearie 1"

Inspector Craven, not daring to trust himself, as
he remarked to the doctor, took one of his men along
as chauffeur. He feared that he would drive too
fast for safety. So he said to the officer:

"Tarrytown, Beronio, at the best you can get out
of her."

The automobile had a riot car siren, but it is safe
to assert that no riot car ever ran like that one.
There were few curves to make and with a few ex-
ceptions, the road was perfectly straight all the way.

The car could run at a speed of over sixty. It
ran very nearly that the entire distance. As they
raced along the highway, Tessie felt the universe
slipping from her. The thought of what place in
the world might be hers when this nightmare was
over terrified her. The doctor read some of her
thought from her expression and, trying to make
her talk pointed out objects along the road — a diffi-
cult task, with the car dashing along so that tele-
phone and telegraph posts almost resembled a
picket fence. She replied in monosyllables. Finally
he said:

"You mustn't worry so much, my child. What is
your anxiety, now?"

"Oh," she cried, gulping to keep down a sob, "if
the hunchback has taken alarm and gone away, what
will become of Ross and me?"

"The shack will still be there, won't it? That
will confirm part of your story," said the doctor.

These words bewildered the trembling young ,
woman.

"You don't believe, then, that I gave him poison
deliberately?" she faltered.

"I would need more proof than we have now,"
answered Dr. Jarvis.

To this enigmatic reply there was no response.

THE SHADOW ON THE SPARK

509

They were not long in reaching Tarrytown, where
Inspector Craven turned to Tessie, saying:

"You had better keep your eyes open now for the
place where you turned off the main road. The
speedometer says 52 now; if your guess of the dis-
tance is accurate, we should run much slower."

Beronio ran the car more slowly for three miles,
but Tessie did not recognize the turn. Nearing four
miles, as the inspector was beginning to be assailed
by doubts, she said suddenly:

"Just beyond here, I remember, is the cross road.
This gateway with the two stone lions at each side,
opened as we passed — a car coming out delayed us
for a moment. It should be less than a city block
ahead."

THE inspector felt almost cheerful when, two
hundred feet farther on, another road crossed
their path.

"To the left, Beronio," he ordered, "when you
come to the trees take the wagon trail and go just
a short distance."

Inspector Craven said these words fatuously, like
a man who has learned a lesson in which he has not
the slightest, belief, who has been told to memorize
the first fifty lines and mumbles the words like a
talking doll. They were all unnerved as the final
test approached. Mentally, the inspector blamed
the doctor who had led him into a fool journey like
this. Tessie was in a panic, fearing the escape of
the dwarf. Dr. Jarvis alone seemed unconcerned.
His tall figure, erect and commanding, his lips com-
pressed in a firm, straight, uncompromising line,
expressed no doubt whatever. The car stopped.
Doctor Jarvis was the first to get out. Inspector
Craven was at his side in an instant. Beronio
opened the crazily hanging gate and ran his car
into the shelter of the trees.

"How far did you go into the woods, Tes3ie?"
asked the inspector.

"Possibly four or five blocks," replied the girl.

"Beronio, give the doctor your gun," ordered In-
spector Craven. "He may need it. Lead on Tessie,
hut go softly."

The evening was coming on, the autumn air was
cool and damp in the neglected woods, weedy, with
thick undergrowth; it was difficult to think of a
house of any sort there. Yet they followed the
girl, breathlessly, almost treading on her heels.
Five hundred yards they trudged along the winding
path when Tessie stopped.

"Look," she whispered, pointing to the right.

Both men followed her glance, seeing with relief
a dilapidated tenant house, to all appearances un-
occupied, save for an almost imperceptible thin line
of smoke which was just visible above the broken
edge of the chimney. The door was closed, but
would probably offer no formidable obstacle. Shut-
ters hung crazily over the one window which opened
on the front of the house. They were half closed,
held by a bit of soiled ribbon.

"Doc," whispered the inspector, "I am going to
slip over to the door. If anyone tries to drop out
hy that side window, use your gun. If any of
Hovey's gang is about, they won't mince matters."

Inspector Craven wa3 himself, now. The house
was here, that was certain. Stealthily he moved
toward the door. Unperceived. he gained the door-

way, where he stood for a moment listening for
signs of life. Finally he heard a clinking of glass,
a very faint tinkling. He put his big shoulder
against the door. It was bolted and resisted his
first assault. He thought no longer of who might
be inside and with a mighty impact, burst the door
open. As he almost fell over the threshold, a shot
rang out and a twinge in the left shoulder told him
it was a good shot. But he fired at the flash, which
was followed by a cry of pain. He had hit his
enemy in the gun arm. There was light enough for
Craven to see a hunchback, who stood looking wick-
edly at the gun which covered him. The instant
the reports rang out Doctor Jarvis and Tessie had
run to the door of the shanty.

"Are you hurt, inspector?" asked Jarvis.

"He winged me in the left shoulder," said Craven
grimly. "If I had not stumbled when the door gave
way it would have been worse, for it was well aimed
for the heart. Pretty lookin' bird, ain't he? Is he
the one who filled the prescription, Tessie?"

"Yes," replied the girl, while the dwarf looked at
her malevolently.

A small fire burned in an open stove. As the
doctor, seeing the blood on Inspector Craven's coat,
began to examine him to learn the extent of his
injury, the hunchback, with a quick movement,
grasped a bundle of papers spiked on a file and
threw them into the stove.

"The prescriptions, the prescriptions!" cried Tes-
sie, in a panic.

FORGETTING his wound, the inspector leaped
at the hunchback, felling him to the floor with a
heavy blow from the butt of his revolver. He sank
to the floor, motionless. Doctor Jarvis had darted
to the stove from which he retrieved the sheaf of
papers, little the worse from the flames except
where the hot coals had singed the edges. The doc-
tor's fingers suifered most from contact with the
embers.

"Tessie," said the inspector, nursing his wounded
shoulder, "run through those papers. See if you
can find anything that looks like the prescription
Bill Hovey gave yon."

Eagerly enough, now, she lifted one sheet after
another from the file. Not far from the top she
came on one which she examined carefully.

"This is it," she said, holding it out for Dr. Jarvis
to read. His professional instincts, however, over-
came his curiosity.

"Inspector," he cried, somewhat shamefacedly,
remorseful for neglect toward a wounded friend,
"let us have a look at that shoulder first."

"It hurts like the devil," said Inspector Craven,
"but that bird is stirring, so safety first. Take a
pair of handcuffs out of my pocket and snap them
on his wrists. He would blow us all up and himself,
too, if he got the chance."

Dr. Jarvis secured the misshapen dwarf, clumsily
enough, then looked at his wound. The dwarf's arm
was bleeding. Without too great delay, for he was
much more worried over the inspector than over the
misshapen druggist, he bound the wound tightly
to prevent further bleeding. In all this commotion,
although he stirred, the man did not regain con-
sciousness. He had been dealt a stiff blow.

The inspector was not seriously wounded. The

510

AMAZING STORIES

bullet fired by the hunchback, from a vicious little
automatic .25 had gone straight through the shoul-
der muscles, severing the smaller blood vessels. It
was a matter of a few minutes to dress the wound,
but Craven was impatient to learn the truth. Had
they found the prescription? If they had, his wound
mattered little. If not, he was a fool. He had
made a melodrama of a coroner's investigation. If
without cause, he was a zany. With cause, he pre-
served his self-respect at least.

"Doc," he said, as soon as the bandage was drawn
tight and a tourniquet applied, "see what kind of a
list Piggy Bill writes. If it's the literature the little
lady says, I'll bet it against Shakespeare."

Doctor Jarvis then spread the paper Tessie had
given him on the counter, while Tessie and the
inspector leaned over his shoulder.

"The first paragraph calls for morphine and aco-
polamin," said he. "But scopolamin has no virtue
in a surgical case. But wait," he added, "there is
more. My God, what infamy!"

For a moment he was speechless, then began read-
ing words incomprehensible to his hearers.

"Monsieur et cher ami :" was the salutation, then
came the following words: "C'est bien drole que le
mot 'scopolamin' et le mot qui exprime l'extrait de
la noix vomique ont la meme total; il serait bien
dommage si I'on prendrait l'un pour l'autre."

"What does it all mean?" asked Inspector Craven.

"Well," answered the doctor, "it is not medical
Latin nor any other kind of Latin. It is written in
fairly good French, not at all difficult to follow.
This is how it reads: 'My dear friend: it is very
curious that the word "scopolamin" and the word
which signifies the extract of nux vomica have the
same number of letters. It would be sad if one
mistook the one for the other.'

"That was why he told Tessie scopolamin would
help Craighead. It happened to have the same num-
ber of letters the way he spelled it (without the
'e') as strychnine. Strychnine is an alkaloid of
nux vomica. He knew Tessie wag ignorant of
French — the rest was easy. But I don't understand
what he hoped to gain by it."

"What, a hard-boiled guy like that?" shouted the
inspector. "Hell, he needed $10,000. If Tessie got
married he would send for her and tell the story
counting on her fear to see that he got enough to
pay the lawyer who guaranteed to get him out. Why.
this bunch saw Tessie paying blackmail for murder
the next ten years." Then turning to the girl, he
continued:

"Tessie, you have our compliments. I hope for-
tune will smile on you. This has been a terrible
ordeal for a young girl."

"Indeed," sobbed the girl, as reaction set in, "I
do not care about fortune, now. How can I live,
knowing that I helped kill my benefactor, the one
who was as much a father to me as my own might
have been had he lived."

The doctor took the bundle of prescriptions and
with a number of vials containing prohibited drugs,
narcotics and toxic substances, they returned to the
car, the doctor forcing the hidpous looking dwarf to
walk beside him. They found his name to be Tim-
othy Clegg, from one of the prescriptions. He was
bundled into the car and the return journey to the
metropolis began. At Tarrytown, the inspector
stopped long enough to have a couple of officers sent

to guard the drug store hidden in the woods, so that
no evidence might be destroyed. In the prescrip-
tions were enough orders for deadly poisons, signed
by Piggy Bill Hovey, to damn him many times over.
The proof in the Craighead case was convincing.

Inspector Craven then telephoned the coroner of
the success of their mission. Beronio returned to
town in more leisurely fashion. When they arrived
at the Coroner's Court with their prisoner and the
inspector showing the evidences of a battle, the
scene that followed beggared all description. Hand-
cuffed and heavily guarded, the dwarf sullenly
glared at his captors. Inspector Craven, despite his
wound, took the stand. He described their journey
in complete detail, verifying Tessie's story. Calls
for order failed to check the applause for the girl.

1-\R. JARVIS followed the inspector. He identi-
-I— ' fied the prescription, and gave its hideous im-
port so vividly that the spectators shuddered. The
jury took but a few minutes to render a verdict.

As the verdict was announced, a finely dressed
woman murmured audibly:

"What a monstrous injustice! That young man
inherits all his father's wealth, although he helped
to kill him."

She was one of Jim Craighead's numerous cousins
and chagrined that his big estate was beyond her
reach. Ross Cragihead was too far away to hear
her remark, but she heard his reply breathlessly,
for he rose to his feet, before the crowd, dazed by
the rapid turn of events. He took hold of Tessie's
arm, and stood near the coroner.

"I want to say to you, Mr. Coroner, publicly," he
began, "to Dr. Jarvis and to Inspector Craven, that
after what has been revealed here today, it is im-
possible for me to take one penny from my father's
estate. His will makes Dr. Jarvis executor and
gives him certain powers of distribution, in case I,
for any reason, do not succeed to the property.
Since I, however innocently, was, with Tessie, the
instrument of his death, the money would come to
me stained with blood. Yet this tragedy has knitted
the fate of Tessie and myself in an indissoluble
way. With what we have, we leave this city tonight
— we shall be married at once. Then we shall go
far from this place of dreadful memories to live as
best we can, what life has in store for us. If we
are free, we will go at once."

"You are free," said the coroner. "All the evi-
dence is now on record."

The crowd moved aside to let them pass. As they
moved toward the door, the girl clutched with both
hands, the arm of her partner in crime. Unwilling
criminals I

The dwarf was never tried. He was found dead
in his cell the next morning, despite the careful
guard set to prevent his suicide. A small capsule in
his mouth showed that he was always prepared for
the possibility of capture. Piggy Bill died myste-
riously before any charge was presented against
him. "Suicide," remarked Inspector Craven, "as
Webster once said, is confession."

A year later, Dr. Jarvis received an announcement
from Sydney. Australia, telling of the birth of "Jim
Craighead, Second." "a wonderful, blond boy.
healthy and noisy." The doctor smiled as he re-
called that his power of appointment had not been
exercised.

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HICKS' INVENTIONS WITH A KICK

(By HENRY HUGH SIMMONS)

(Continued from page 497)

bling with the buttons. "It won't work," the in-
ventor wailed. "Something has gone wrong with
the system. I remember now," he added, "I had
the hand release taken out— just taken out experi-
mentally. I'll have to put it in again. . . ."

"You will have it put in again, you confounded
peanut-headed dumb-bell," roared Irvine above the
shrieks of the professor and the wails of the
female company, "when the professor has had his
face scalped and has been murdered. Go and cut
the juice off, I tell you! Haven't you got enough
sense?"

The entire company stood assembled around
where the professor was having the shine of his
life, everybody suggesting, talking, shouting.
Smith tried helpfully to pull the professor out by
the legs. Redoubled shrieks of agony made him
desist from his Christian endeavor. I drew my
watch. Only one minute was over. Would that
fool never be able to cut off the juice? "I got it!"
yelled Hicks, as we heard the switch of a button.

At once I felt that something was wrong, wrong
— very much wrong again. I did not know what
it was. Yes, I did. It was the water rising on my
feet. Did I say just a while ago it was funny how
the human mind acts? You know, the first thing
I thought of was the professor. "Cut it out,
Hicks," I roared, "you will drown him."

"I will," came back the despairing cry of the
inventor. "I will, I will, I will! But I can't. There
is something radically wrong here. Something
must be wrong, I am sure, — I know something is
wrong!" and he went into a spasm of working with
the switchboard.

T TOO thought that something must be wrong.
1 Meanwhile the water wa3 rising at the rate of
about half an inch a second. I took only a short men-
tal calculation to see that within Ie3s than a minute
it must be above the professor's mouth and there
was still a minute and a half to go before the release
would act. I pride myself on quick thinking in an
emergency. Near the dish washing machine I had
seen a piece of large rubber hose. I made a dash for
it, splashing through the water, which was now half
a foot deep. I got back just in time. "Take this
in your mouth, professor, and quit your roaring, or
you will drown," I screamed in his ears. Some in-
stinct told him I was right and he did as he was
told. In a few seconds the water was up over his
face, but he was breathing through the hose.

"Get out of here, the rest of you, or there may be
the devil to pay J" I ordered. "You can't do the pro-
fessor any good and the water is rising. Get out!"

To her honor it must be said that the prim Miss
Peak remained. "I'll stay with you to the end, dear,
and hold your hand," she crooned over the rising
waters — for the professor was beyond hearing. Un-
der the water the brushes were working with un-
diminished speed, raising little gurgling eddies to
testify to their action. The rest of the company
splashed through the inundation, which was by this
time a foot and a half deep, toward the front room.
With difficulty, they opened the door and instantly

I felt the outward rush of water, while the level fell
several inches in the kitchen to start rising again
soon after. All of a sudden I heard screams of ter-
ror. "Hold the hose," I ordered Miss Peak, and
rushed, — or rather sloshed, toward the front room.
There I beheld a sight I will never forget. The fur-
niture had been shifted to one side, blocking the
door. The water was two feet high. Irvine was
standing on a table — did I tell you before that he
always was a coward? Smith and his wife, my aunt
and the inventor were in various attitudes of pros-
tration in the water, and every time one tried to rise
he would suddenly sit down. He would get up, make
a step, and kerplunk! sit down in the water. "Some-
thing is murdering us, O'Keefe," roared Smith. "Oh,
it is biting me," screamed Aunt Eulalia. For a
moment I was bewildered, dumbfounded. Why didn't
they stay up? Then the truth flashed upon me.
That confounded Automatic Carpet Sweeper was
there under the water, rushing back and forth, and
it was mowing down the people as fast as they could
get up. "All get up on the table!" I shrieked, "or
you will be killed." Evidently they were ready for
any advice, for they scrambled out over the chairs
and on the table with an alacrity begotten of des-
peration. They could all just find room on it. Just
at that moment all the furniture made a quick move
as if galvanized, moving toward the opposite end of
the room, and all five sat down in the lake below.
Screams and curses instantly rent the air. There
again was that confounded suction sweeper, no
longer sucking, but running all the same along the
floor, knocking the unfortunate people down as fast
as they managed to rise. "Get back on the table," I
bellowed, and at that moment, remembering the pro-
fessor's plight, I rushed back. By this time the
water was three feet deep and was getting close to
the end of the hose. But thank goodness, there were
only twenty seconds left until the release would
work. During the stress of excitement, a life seems
crowded into seconds. And did you ever notice how
during a serious crisis, you will do unimportant
things? Perhaps I needed a mental rest, for just
then I saw the Automatic Egg Beater in front of
me. It flashed through my thoughts that Hicks had
said that it ran at a speed of 15000 R.P.M. It
would be interesting to see that spindle go. This
was my chance. I could do nothing until the release
worked — why not put time to good use? All these
thoughts crowded themselves into that brief mo-
ment. I bent down close to the beater to observe
the way the spindle acted, and pressed the button.
The egg-beater started like a gun. A lock of my
hair was sucked in and wrapped around the high-
speed spindle. In a hundredth part of the tick of a
dollar watch my head was pulled up until my fore-
head rubbed it. There was a brief moment of con-
centrated agony, a feeling as if my head would ex-
plode, and three solid handsful of my hair, pulled
out by the roots, were distributed over the surround-
ings. I turned off the switch. My mind was cleared
and so was my forehead of every vestige of hirsute
adornment, while a little stream of blood slowly
trickled down over my nose.

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I LOOKED around and saw the professor with the help
of his lank fiancee getting x up. He looked like a native
chief of Dahomey who had taken a bath with his European
clothes on. The first thing he did was to let out a vast and
good old American curse involving Hicks. So I knew he
was all right. I heard a sudden commotion in the front
room. There was a thundering as of water downstairs.
And it was. Somebody had opened the door. Something
else but water was running downstairs, however — in fact,
it was some body. It was Irvine and Smith. But they
were not first. The inventor was ahead of them. I looked
out of the window. There he was, going down the street

The

like a streak, doing a hundred yards in exactly a couple of
seconds, less than very little. Shades of all the runners of
romance! He would have made them look like nothing.
Smith and Irvine were doing well, but they were hopelessly
outdistanced. In five seconds the inventor was out of Bight.

Then I remembered that I was the one who had fixed the
thing up. I began to think. Gruesome details of several
recent lynchings flashed through my mind. Without stop-
ping for my hat, I crept down the stairs. At the entrance
I looked around cautiously. Then I squared my shoulders
and walked away in the most dignified manner 1 could mus-
ter and reached home, none the worse for the experience,
which is as it should have been, for it was not my fault.
End.

WANTED— A YOUNG MEN'S SCIENCE
CLUB
Editor, Auaiikc Siobies:

nyself have started

It will he possible for
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516'

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THE FOURTH DIMENSION
Editor. Auaiihc Stocks: -

Am»i'r. ?roiiiKS — I wish to take this opportunity

"The FoUr-Dimen-

oinls which I'd like
:ry slight knowledge

Have just imi..l,rd .

-> il H»(lcr i'reV an

but seemed vague one.
(,, ask .il...ut as I have but a very

' The m'l^eenlcr of this r

,„ be "lull „t an invisible ev:,:.-:.-:
If [he r„Ucrs were eitended— why
seen? And since this extended p
s*.lid at the rest, arid one „.i,l,1
through the space it occupied, t

:.,:l;rr .lian an extensionf

Kneading necessary 'la soften the body muscles and
hones sufficiently to increase its height four inches

The story is unusually interesting to me » in

niv ,1,1,11 1 1 had a dream or this type.

The janitor of the school I attended and of

rather

elfitlic-

rtn; Un i[haVtV W Vgony 0 on ihM^ man "'face it'willi

"With all apologies for the length of this letter.

Mas. Iw-A Sale > Bo,

Chicago. 111.

[We find your criticism about
vhen yo'i^gotTnto' the fourth d^

1 to feel

t. l v i , '.he wurk u f Einstein, has gTeat Rossi

tiei - 1 1 Ik-ison and would seem to allow th
:h,.r a very free play of fancy. The dream yo
ate is curiously in accord Kith the story.

Editor. Amaz.no Stomas: ^

1 have just finished reading the second Inst:
nent of "The Moon Pool," and wis!

a like A. Hyatt Verr ill's
criticising; of certain

nake up for these ir
nfnt in™ ill "togethe.

We cannot 'judge such things by ^ scientific^ fact

Most of the storie

fVhy have life so human in form, Is it because
iut minds refuse to judge a thing in any other
vay. but by itself? We seem to take life on oihei

-lanJards as that I
m-e lit,- on this earthy

"The Remarkable Drawing." bv I. M De Aragon
proved quite a surprise. I think you should in-
clude more of tuch drawings in A hazing Stomas.

No matter hr,» 1,..i B I write, this letter would
be full of praise, f™ Amj.hs Stoiies nils that
lOnC-fall want -,,r -denlitu-tion.

J. Ravhono Stimi

Havre, Montana,

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The first thing I noticed on reading the three
prize stories in v.-jr Kmc issue was the lack of
.vntLiiB abthlv. The plots. 1 felt, were excellent.
"The Vi-.itiitinn" :a;rlv -.veil written, but it

is an extremely difficult task to successfully bring

r.ene'e'.i wriit-rs seem able to. In this respect I
feel that "Toe Kit cl runic Wall." and "The Fate
sf the Poseidonia" fell flat. I. however, am
-terciy j.uinrinK this out. I, in spite of this, found

dioxide than oxyg
air would tend to
fungi use more i
excess of carbon
fungus growth.
In reference to

lals breathe throuch lungs, with a defii
uscles, Now, It Is known, and even 1
he ease of ariiiioul rcsmdlsiic-n, wheie caiuun
ioxide is mixed imrly lar^c. rather^ relatively

M given off by "he lungs! stimulates the muscles
f the lungs. This would. "

plied <i::

reptilian life generally, while insects.
■ iscles, could not be =o stimulated,
e story greatly, and, as nothing
erfeet, I am eagerly lookine for-
ties by the author. I like ail
h to emphasize that good author.

ures are difficult, when of imag-

^ g^^£-»™ Ys "puzzle

one? This letter presents a great contrast to one (
preceding it. Btit we do enjoy such criticisms.—
EDITOR.]

THE BELLIGERENT EDITOR

Editor. Aiiazjbg Stoaies:

Your magazine since the first issue I had the

¥l00aWeek

,2|2l|9|3 1l|7 9 22 5 14|
j for Promptness ^

luck to pick up, hai remained my favorite above
all others. Since 1 am continuously travelling I
do not subscribe hut 1 do haunt the news stands
from the fourth of the month until it appears.

My only criticism is nof of the glories them-
panics the letters from other readers.

For example, in the June issue the letter of

positively seH 'on sight °B ig gest ™rimjSctt» pfild .
in advance. Weattend torlelive.ry :m.j C.Jlec; mr, :
: ■ ;■; . ■■ ! ■: ■!■:■:
FREE. Ambitious men write at once.
VI. Z. GIBSON, Inc.. 151 W. Harrison. Dipt. H-r.76 Chicago

Qatf.Zlm'' nl Soll-Mrla St.!' ' Chicago. 11L

Mr, Ludes of San Francisco is ^treated as if^he

celLnt'storr. nS Thc- |',. .,,]■; ;,e h.e-: lions, "particularly
,h,- ..n- cnnmrriiriF n( election of specimen in
"The Green Splorchef" oec.irre.j it, me at the time
I read the story. What I am tryins to bring out
is the fact that discussion o; this nature increases

1001 Laughs

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interest in the art ^T-dv,.-; and. I consider,
should be treated with a less belligerent attitude
by the editor*.

As for the rest I read nil the stories published.

finish "the m^gaJin "'Trom COVCT tO cover. * "The
"Time Machine" has always been one of my
favorites as has the "War of the Worlds " The

Wonder Magic Co. suite not b 25W45*sl Newark

latter seem, to me to offer more possibilities for
:, rnovins picture than "To.- Lost World" ever did.
1 am hoping some dav to find "When the Sleeper
Wakes" publisher! as I should like to re-read it.

^^^^^^^^^^^ The biggest, fun-

I OVF And Matrix In Islam. Reading you
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A. C. CERVENBC CO.. Boi 4, Buffalo, N. Y. j

I. M, Receb,
St. Louis. Mo.
[We certainly did not mean to be belligerent in
our notes on Mr l.utle;' 1,-iter. We do not write
the stories our<el eiM. bu: ijel ihe bet in this line
of literature. We always welcome criticism of the
storier and we are sure that oar authors are gen -

verges 8 on d faulf'findml ""we" particularly" value
such letters as yours and are R lad that you have
joined our company of pleased readers. We note
your request lor ihe rcorini o( Mr. Wells' story

Wakes" ram?— EDITOR.] * ^ V

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